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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841330">404 | Georgenotfound x Reader</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragondoodles/pseuds/dragondoodles'>dragondoodles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coffee Shops, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Internet Famous, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Social Anxiety, Soft GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Video &amp; Computer Games, online</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragondoodles/pseuds/dragondoodles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee shops and crushes, video calls and an apparently famous stranger...<br/>A fluffy developing relationship between yourself and the youtuber GeorgeNotFound, which might just be exactly what you both never knew you needed.<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Georgenotfound / reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>343</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Coffee Beans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I’ll have an espresso please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was your first impression.  Your fingers found themselves tracing the strap of your purse, slowly inhaling the comforting yet sickening smell of coffee beans and vanilla.  It was marred with the faded essence of people and ended conversations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But only one person in particular caught your eye that evening.  Well, evening was a generous description.  It was actually 23:34 on a Tuesday- an absurd hour to be out at a coffee shop, you mused.  Although, you had your reasons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were only about 4 others in the shop, reading or clicking away on shiny laptops.  All the more reason why your attention was drawn to this particular stranger, who stood rather plainly in line in front of you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried to encourage your eyes somewhere else: the fake leaves above the chalkboard menus, perhaps the industrial-looking lights that all played into what you thought was a bit forced of a charming aesthetic.  But to no avail, for your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, always seemingly landing on his chocolatey raven hair.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked a bit greasy, untamed but short enough to get away with.  You’d only seen him from the front for a moment but his tousled locks had made your cheeks warm.  You were always soft for things like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am?” You were snapped out of your idiotic daze in an instant, placing your order as though you’d done it a million times (which you probably had).  As the first words fell from your mouth, however, the corner of your eye caught a turn from the handsome guy.  Or, as they say in England, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bev</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  You chuckled at your mind’s painful attempt to adopt the local accent.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway, as you waited for your beverage you couldn’t help but steal a peek at him.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Brown eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Second impression.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You exchanged bills and swung to survey the shop, ponderously admiring the patterned latte cupped in your warm hands while stealing glances.  But your mind was aflutter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d selected a seat by the window, a bar with a vacant seat on either side.  He’d placed his rather heavy looking backpack on the seat to his right, swiftly powering up a laptop with more wires attached than you could count.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could sit next to him, a part of you thought.  But of course those childish fears filled your head- what if he’s uncomfortable?  What if I come off as aggressive?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the time you’d taken to go sift through your thoughts, he’d put on airpods only making you more reluctant to approach him.  But something in the pit of your stomach propelled you forward, and you eventually took a seat one away from him- a good compromise.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t bring a laptop, as you hadn’t intended to work but your phone was a good enough tool for distraction.  The temptation of putting on music was present, but you opted instead to simply listen to the passing snippets of conversations and quiet hum of the coffee machines whilst sipping your drink.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes kept themselves lowered, although no part of you ignored the expresso haired boy to your right.  He was typing quickly on the keyboard, thoughtful and soft as though it were like breathing.  You wondered what his ksp was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now the question was- how would you start a conversation with this curious stranger?  Perhaps the old “oops i spilled my coffee” trick?  No, too messy- not to mention obvious.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twitter opened on your phone screen, and mindless scrolling followed.  Every now and then you snuck glances at what was displayed on his laptop screen- for the last 10 minutes or so it had been lines and lines of code, until suddenly he clicked over to twitter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes took a risk peering this long out of curiosity, but you couldn’t help them widening when you saw the message resting at the top.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1M unchecked notifications </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>500,000 mentions</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>100,000 new followers</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you famous?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think.  The boy immediately turned and gave you a curious look, removing an airpod.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wot?”  His accent sounded like honey in your ears, and although you were used to it after living here for a while the way he uttered the syllable, as through it were an exhale…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat rose to your face, realizing your predicament.  Your fingers gripped your coffee as you cleared your throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, sorry, I just… “  You brought your eyes to his open tab, which he followed, “That’s a lot of notifications.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To your delight, he chuckled.  You let out a sigh, drinking in the adorable way his eyes crinkled at the corners and eyebrows rose as he let out a soft and high giggle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm.. what would give you that idea?” humor sparkled in his eyes, and it took you a minute to pick up on the sarcasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you didn’t respond, he pressed, “Would you like a photo?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Photo?  Did he think you knew who he was?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You mouth dried as you realized he’d misunderstood the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Um, well you see… I don’t quite know who you are,” you stammered.  His eyebrows raised a bit, and perhaps it was your lonesome imagination but you saw a soft pink bloom across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As in… um…”  You didn’t want to admit to having spied on his laptop screen, but it seemed you had no choice.  “I just say your notifications.  I’m sorry, that seems creepy…  it probably is creepy.”  You sucked in a breath, before his smiling expression allowed you to let out a chuckle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no that’s fine,” he laughed, “I’m just used to… you know, being recognized in public.  Probably why I don’t go out much!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggled again, noticing the patterns in his expressions and hinting on a tinge of disappointment in that last phrase although it was heavily masked in humor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, didn’t know I was speaking to a celebrity!”  Your pathetic attempt at a joke softened the air, and suddenly it seemed as though you were simply sitting at a cafe speaking to an old friend.  Despite him being a stranger, and apparently a famous one at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you do?  Acting, singing...?”  You tried to imagine him in those professions- he certainly had the looks for them, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Erm, well...I make videos and stream, on twitch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, twitch!  Yeah, that’s awesome!”  In reality you only had a vague idea of what the application was.  It could be an adult site for all you knew.  “What do you do on there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His embarrassed blush deepened.  “I play minecraft.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Fun!  What sort of stuff?”  At your genuine interest he seemed to perk up, looking you in the eyes for the first time since your awkward interaction.  The space between you seemed to lessen despite the empty seat, and your sweaty palms loosened from your cup.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I make videos on YouTube with my friends, challenges and stuff.”  Even though you were only loosely interested in the subject, the way his eyes sparkled and voice lightened when explaining made you want to listen for hours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You rested your chin on your propped up arm as he continued, “Speedruns and that sort, we have this one series that’s really popular.”  He was a bit too vague for you to latch on to, your knowledge of minecraft youtubers wasn’t great but wasn’t nonexistent.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the series?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed a bit reluctant but answered, “Minecraft Manhunt, it's by my friend Dream.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know Dream!”  Of course you’d heard of him; he was all over twitter, plus you had the luck of having gone through a YouTube phase earlier through lockdown here in London.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hid his emotions well, but the slight fall in his expression made you hesitant to continue “fangirling”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, so do you live down here in London?”  A stupid question really, anyone going to a cafe around here must be a local.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, just around here actually.”  The second he said that he looked around cautiously.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right, he’s famous.  He can’t just go around announcing his address.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  “And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were flattered that </span>
  <em>
    <span>his highness, friend of Dream </span>
  </em>
  <span>gave a damn about your comparingly uninteresting life.  It made your cheeks tingle the slightest bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m attending university here!  Well, not here specifically, but since the lockdown it’s been virtual so I rented out an apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see.  I figured you weren’t from here, the accent and all.”  Your shyness about your un-english accent came through, but he said it almost like a compliment that it made the corners of your mouth rise.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed, “Well, I must say you have a lot… less of an accent compared to everyone else here.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably from hanging out with Americans almost 24/7.  Changes your speech I guess.”  The way he pressed more of an English accent on the response, and gave such a clear cut answer made you feel as though perhaps he was a bit… insecure about it.  Guess you had that in common. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think it’s nice.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cheeks once again gained a rosy hue, and you assumed yours did the same as you directed your gaze to the dark street past the glass.  It’d begun to rain, the sight of which sending a chill down your spine.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” you began, “Why at a coffee shop at this hour?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chuckle immediately warmed you up from the inside.  “Well, I haven’t much of a sleep schedule at the moment, streaming and all.  Plus I have to fit my friends’ timezones, so… this is honestly just me trying to get out before I’m cooped up editing for the rest of the day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hummed in agreement, noticing the intent in his eyes as he studied the outside view, and raindrops racing on the floor-to-ceiling windows.  “And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, sort of the same I suppose.  College, you know- “normal” doesn’t really exist.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I know all about that.  Glad I made it out of that shithole,” he scoffed, gaze never faltering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you study?”  Your curiosity was genuine, and so was your reluctance to let go of the conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Computer science.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should’ve guessed,” you nodded towards his screen which was now once again plastered with codes.  “Any interesting projects?”  At this point you felt like you were prying, but he never showed any sense of annoyance so you pressed on.  Perhaps he just wasn’t a conversationalist- wait, no- he played video games for a living.  He definitely wasn’t a conversationalist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And jackpot, his caramel eyes once again lit up.  In a swift motion you almost missed, he jumped seats so that he was next to you.  You stiffened at the sudden closeness but immediately softened as he pulled his laptop between the two of you so that you could see.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually coding a plug-in that will allow the player- in, er, minecraft- to teleport, but everytime they do so they divide their health in half.  In the game you have only 10 heart of health-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoffed humorously.  “I’ve played minecraft before!  I know what health is,” to which he responded by a nervous giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright alright, sorry!  So anyways, you know endermen?  It essentially transforms the player into one of those with a bunch of restraints.  Like, your vision is like really blurred and dark, plus rain kills you super fast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lines of code that he flipped through looked absolutely foreign to you, but you nodded along, his fascination contagious.  Although you were easily distracted, for example by his hands… shamefully wondering how they’d look wrapping around yours…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shooed away the thoughts.  It’d been too long since you’d felt any sort of real romantic feelings, that you’d forgotten how to catch and control them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he kept speaking, ideas weaving in and out like he was creating a world in his mind and allowing you a glimpse.  You were so lost in the slur of his words that something suddenly occurred to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” You interrupted, earning an eyebrow raise and side glance that gave you butterflies.  “I just realized, I haven’t learned your name.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he laughed wholeheartedly.  “It’s George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You responded with your name.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleased to meet you, George.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi! I hope you enjoyed chapter 1.  I'm planning to continue, although since I'm mostly just playing this by ear I'm not sure exactly how many chapters it'll be.  Probably until I get bored, which I don't see myself being anytime soon :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Raindrops on Roses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your conversation lasted a while.  It felt so natural, although you’d forgotten what actually talking to people felt like.  Even your flustered feelings took a backseat, allowing your laughs and George’s explanations to fill the air of the almost-empty coffee shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time one of you drew attention to the time, it was almost 2:00.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One forty-eight?  We’ve been chatting for almost 2 hours!” You mused, a tad frightened that he would take it to mean that you were looking to leave which couldn’t be further from the truth.  If you were honest with yourself, you’d spend the rest of the new day sitting in that bar stool seat with now-cold coffee talking with this intriguing stranger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sorry.  I could talk about that stuff for hours,”  he said shyly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that feeling.  And… “ you took a risk, “I could listen for hours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”  There was that flirty side glance again that drove you insane.  He knew what he was doing, he had to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it beats playing Minecraft for hours and hours on end- although I suppose anything would,” he chuckled as he stretched his arms and fingers, prompting you to do the same.  “Still, this was a nice break.  Something different I guess.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, same,” you agreed, playing with your fingers.  You briefly got up to throw away your coffee cup, stretching your stiff legs at the opportunity.  The cafe was empty now, save for a barista in the back.  You heard shuffling as George began slowly packing away his millions of wires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you looked at him.  The curve of his jaw, the chocolate hair that looked almost jet black in the dim lighting.  His creamy skin and long eyelashes which you hadn’t noticed until now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wore a simple T-shirt and simpler jacket, over loose jeans.  The world was so unjust, allowing someone dressed like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> to possibly look so handsome.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You returned to your seat, settling down.  It was the awkward moment between trying to tear your heart away from wanting to stay, and the temptation of asking for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should you ask for his number?</span>
  </em>
  <span>  That would be… perhaps a bit forward.  You’d called him a stranger before, despite feeling now as though you’d known him for an eternity.  But friend was far from accurate- no, you were flirting on the border of acquaintance but not quite.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the chances that you’d see each other by chance like this were slim, especially if he went out as little as he claimed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then another anxious thought crept up your spine as you scrolled through twitter (trying your best to avoid looking up “george - dream - minecraft”.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is he single?  What if he’s dating someone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your stomach sank.  You’d never really met anyone famous, forget having a 2 hour conversation with one.  If his twitter notifications meant anything, it’s that he was popular- and more so than he’d modestly admitted to being.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Among his fans had to be someone more beautiful, more intelligent, more interesting- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, erm, are you leaving?  I can walk you- if you’d like of course.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly all your thoughts melted away at the way he stammered through that sentence, and then immediately blushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, erm, that sounds bad.  I meant, it’s dark so if you’d like I can accompany you, not in a creepy way or anything-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” you said, as sweetly as you possibly could, pouring in all of the genuine gratitude and relief you felt.  His smile was enough to make you feel as though you were floating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, you once again swung the small purse over your shoulder, buttoning up the soft cream coat you wore and bracing yourself to enter the cold outdoors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you!” You waved to the barista on their phone in the back, not expecting a response as you held the door for George.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The barely lit street and cozily towering buildings engulfed the two of you in darkness.  Neither of you had an umbrella, but it was only drizzling.  Still the wind was quite annoying, but as you’d learned early on in your move this was just England. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment you walked in silence, until you let out a sigh.  “One thing I’ll never get used to is this weather,” you joked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another reason I never leave my room!”  he shouted over the roaring wind.  It was hard to sustain a conversation with the breezes, so you moved closer to him and his warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like you’re exaggerating.  Like, cmon I’m sure you leave your house once in a while!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does once a month count?”  You laughed, a part of you knowing he probably wasn’t lying.  “Only when my mum forces me to get groceries.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he still lives with his mum.  You found that charming, even cute.  But from the slight regret in his voice it seemed like he wished he’d kept it to himself, which hurt your heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how far is your place?”  You were so tempted to just tell him to leave you here so you could walk the rest, since you were perfectly capable.  But this display of chivalry, as before had demonstrated, seemed to give him a bit of confidence which you wouldn’t take away even if it killed you.  And plus, it was working- you were charmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few more blocks,” you said truthfully, drawing a hand over your eyes to see through the thickening rain.  “How far is yours?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit further than yours I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He obviously valued privacy, that was clear to you.  Probably since being in the public must be a constant test of that- you could never do it.  Still, you appreciated that he tried his best to keep your address out of the conversation, even though in reality you didn’t mind in the slightest.  Sure, walking alone with a man you’d just met was… risky, to say the least, but you trusted him.  Truly, genuinely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You checked the time wettening your phone screen in the process: </span>
  <em>
    <span>2:21.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening your phone reminded you- this could- no, would- be the last time you spoke to this man unless you exchanged some kind of contact information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And perfect timing, you’d just arrived at the crosswalk right in front of your apartment complex.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can walk the rest of the way!  Home is just over there,” You gestured across the deadly quiet street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both stopped, sharing a moment that would be quiet if not for the roaring wind in your ears.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Water slicked George’s hair down so that it almost covered his eyes, raindrops like crystals on his eyelashes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You took the risk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really enjoyed getting to know you, George.”  His name sparkled on your tongue like pop rocks, and you bit your lip knowing he could barely see you in the rain.  But if he could, he’d see the rose blush all over your cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, same here,” he returned with a smile.  Another few heartbeats passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to, maybe, do this again?”  It was out, your emotions on the table like playing cards.  “If you want to, of course.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, yeah.  Yeah, that sounds nice,” he responded, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!  I mean, great.  Sounds good.”  Your turn to be the stuttering mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exchanging numbers was challenging in the pouring rain, but you got it done.  And when you parted with a simple goodbye, you headed back with a smile at knowing that pressed against your heart and stored in the depths of your phone was the contact of the cutest boy you’d ever met. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was, apparently, famous.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you’d see about that.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>chapter 2!  The first chapter was looong compared to this one, so just so you know most of the following ones will be around this size.  I hope you're enjoying so far, i sure am hehe :]</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Morning Rays</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is kind of a short one, but I didn't want to over-do it &gt;.&lt;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Turns out, he was.  Famous, that is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment you stepped through the door frame, you stripped off all your soaked clothing and settled in a soft pair of pajamas in bed.  Your laptop opened itself and you popped on headphones blocking out the obnoxious rain outside.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although you were probably supposed to be tired, your mind was going a million mph.  The time plastered on your laptop illuminated the room.  Your classes began in about 5 hours- plenty of time for a nap after you’d completed what you needed to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First you opened up your phone, just to double check that the coffee shop boy- George- ‘s contact was actually saved and wasn’t just a vivid hallucination.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There it was, clear as day.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>George.  </span>
  </em>
  <span>Your insides were sent a flutter again at the image of him looking at your name in the same way you did his.  And despite being nothing but a fantasy, butterflies still flew about your stomach.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next: research.  Your fingers flew to the keyboard, arriving at twitter and the humble search bar that rested atop it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only took you a minute to find him- @GeorgeNotFound.  </span>
  <b>George</b>
  <span>.  Followers: 89.3K.  Joined December 2014.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Latest tweet: “I’m starting a collection D:” with a photo of two shiny silver youtube plaques and one gold one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew it was stupid, but you felt your cheeks heat scrolling at his achievements.  This boy was successful all right, and pouring through his other tweets only expanded your admiration.  Associating with people like MrBeast, Dream of course, Wilbur Soot, even Belle Delphine?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who is this guy?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d almost couldn’t believe it was the same shy person from the cafe at all- as if Dream had another best friend named George.  It was like two different people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is until you spotted a picture of him in the mentions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yep, that was him alright.  Coffee bean hair, blinding smile, dark brown eyes.  He was laughing in the picture, and it seemed strange and almost intrusive to stare at him so voraciously having just interacted with him in real life.  It felt like he’d come alive and avert his gaze any moment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other hand, this version of him- the one tethered to a computer screen and seen by probably millions- it looked… freer.  Happier, even.  You didn’t know why you thought that, but something in the energy he exuded from his tweets and clips of his videos was so drastically different from his shyness when he’d been with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing was for sure, he had a relationship with his audience and friends that allowed this side of him to shine.  You navigated to YouTube, finding his channel and selecting video after video.  His mannerisms through a camera were so different from the withdrawn yet fascinating person you’d met- you felt yourself falling for his sense of humor in a way that you hadn’t quite been able to speaking directly to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was more loose, more spontaneous.  The walls he’d built, that you built, to protect yourselves in the view of others in public were nonexistent.  The way he spoke about things was different, less serious and more visionary.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the sparkle in his eyes were the same.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You probably ended up watching all of his videos, finding his Twitch soon after and promptly playing bits and pieces of his recent streams.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he spoke to his friends it felt as though you were with them, a sort of magic that transcended the distance of the internet.  You had to frequently remind yourself that these were real people, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a real person.  A person that would begin to seem very real very soon to you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morning rays shyly crept through your blinds, folding pinks and oranges onto your bedspread.  You’d devoured so many videos, so many streams- that by the time your obnoxious alarm went off you realized you hadn’t slept a wink.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, you’d gained something much more valuable: an understanding.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> GeorgeNotFound now, the charming screaming funny british boy that appeared on his best friend Dream’s videos.  The boy that teenage fans made accounts dedicated to edits of, and that featured in countless “Dream and George flirting” compilations.  The GeorgeNotFound that smiled wildey for the camera and cracked jokes at any given opportunity, putting the viewer in an inescapable trance.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew GeorgeNotFound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now you wanted to know George. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Kite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next couple of days consisted of studying hunched over your laptop, binge watching mind-numbing TV-shows, and of course rewatching clips of a certain British YouTuber.  You just couldn’t help yourself, the more he lurked in your mind the more enamored with him you became.  And it was impossible to get him out, you even tried taking walks around the town and visiting new places with new people to try and dilute the memory of meeting him.  But to no avail, as each night without fail you’d find yourself once again listening to his voice through your phone speakers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You had to call him.  No, you had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>meet</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That first meeting- that was just an introduction.  You hadn’t even learned his name until 30 minutes into your conversation, and were absolutely clueless about who he really was online.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The weekend was steadily approaching, putting more pressure on you to make a move.  You took in a breath and clicked open his contact on your phone, a practice you’d done repeatedly with no intent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this time, you tapped “message”.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello, I’m not sure if you remember me but we met at that coffee shop a couple of days ago-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, too wordy.  Judging from his personality he was a straight-to-the-point type. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You began again.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi!  It's me, from the cafe on Tuesday.  I was just wondering how you’re doing?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A million voices in the back of your mind dissected the sentence and revealed its flaws, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen.  Without another moment of hesitation, you clicked send and fell asleep soon after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again you were greeted by soft sunbeams on your face- you really had to get thicker curtains.  But the awakening was much more pleasant than your usual weekday alarm, a nice start to the weekend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A finger of yours rested atop the back of your phone laying on the table beside you, but after a moment of thought you removed it.  You tried to hush your temptation to check your notifications by beginning your morning routine as swiftly and efficiently as possible- so unlike your usually groggy morning behavior.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But something that morning made you feel light on your toes, a flutter in your chest.  Although that mood continuing hinged on whether or not he replied, and if so, with what.  The thrill of such a feeling of fragility excited you, for at the moment everything was at the mercy of George’s fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You showered and slipped on a fresh outfit before finally allowing yourself to lift up your phone screen and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>0 notifications.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ughhh,” you groaned- your lock screen glaring at you.  You felt a twinge of hurt, but then it immediately dissolved.  You were letting your feelings be stupid again, were you really about to let a boy not responding right away ruin your day?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Men ain’t shit,” you dramatically murmured whilst eating breakfast.  You didn’t really have any plans for the day, but since the sun was so bright even through the blinds in your kitchen, you figured a walk couldn’t hurt.  Plus, your outfit was too cute to waste.   </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ahhhh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Fresh sunlight on your face was like a breath of fresh air.  The fall air that was usually groggy was pleasant today, a lovely day for a walk in England.  As you passed your block and took a turn towards a street you rarely ventured along, you felt yourself falling in love with the country again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charming brick shops and apartments with painted autumn trees dotted every so often along the sidewalk.  The sky was soft blue with not a cloud in sight.  You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in the booth of another quaint coffee shop and draw for the rest of the weekend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that line of thought only always led you to daydreaming- dreaming of being wrapped in soft arms and a softer personality.  You had to shake the thoughts away as you instead selected a path you knew led to a park.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your phone was like a 10 pound weight in your pocket, constantly tempting you to pick it up and check for a nonexistent notification. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get over this useless crush.  You’d only met the guy-George-once, and he was on your mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> more than he should’ve been.  You couldn’t even think of his name without sending your heart aflutter.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, I’m so bad at this stuff.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, you had his number.  That was something, right?  He wouldn’t have just given it to you unless he didn’t find you completely repulsive.  He wouldn’t have given it to you unless he liked you, in some capacity or another.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if reading your thoughts, you felt a buzz at your waist and immediately slipped out your phone, undoing your passcode in a millisecond.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello, I'm doing well!  How r u?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Below that a second message appeared</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Apologies for the late message btw, streamer sleep schedule &gt;.&lt;</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You slammed your palm to your forehead.  What an idiot, you got yourself stressed about someone responding late for absolutely no reason!  Dammit, you thought.  Guess that's half a day of stressing gone for nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn't help the light giggle that arose from you as you pocketed the phone, a rosy feeling returning to your cheeks.  You practically skipped the rest of the way to the park, feeling comforted by the growing number of people you began seeing out and about.  By the time you arrived and sat yourself down on a vacant bench, a group of children were flying a kite in the field and an elderly couple were asleep on the bench beside you.  You smiled, soaking in the scenery, the sunshine, the feelings- so this is what the main characters of cheesy rom-coms felt like.  Weightless and stupidly free, banking everything on the unpredictability and vague possibility of romance.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around a half hour had passed and you thought it safe to respond to George’s message.  Anything shorter would seem desperate, longer would be uninterested.  It’d been a while, but you still knew how to play the game. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m glad, George.  I’m fine as well, I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to meet up sometime?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You chewed on your thumbnail, catching sight of the kite flying in the air to distract you from your anxieties of asking someone on a date.  Hesitating, you added, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I really enjoyed our last conversation :D</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before another thought, your finger clicked send.  With a sigh, you let out all of the fears you’d been holding onto and replaced them with anticipation.  But instead of being negative, weighing you down, it felt more like… having your strings cut.  Your gaze found its way back to that stupid kite.  How nice it must be, being at the mercy of the wind and the elements.  Although perhaps that’s what you were now: at the mercy of the universe and all its divine games. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pardon me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Today was the day!  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your mind raced and so did your fingers through your hair as you quickly rose from bed and got ready.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was your first date with GeorgeNotFound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, okay.  It wasn’t explicitly a date, but you were meeting up.  You popped on a song from your playlist that matched your mood, and like muscle memory opened up your last few messages with George.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You: </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m glad, George.  I’m fine as well, I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to meet up sometime?  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I really enjoyed our last conversation. :D</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sure, that sounds nice although my sleep schedule is pretty wack atm. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What did you have in mind?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing in particular really</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I work part-time at a different coffee shop, maybe we could go there and I could get u a free cup?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds good!  I’ll have to move some things around but what times do u work there on wed? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wednesday’s my morning shift, so usually 6-9 lol</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George:</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That actually works for me, I’ll meet u at 7 yea?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sure!! That sounds great :)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that you’d exchanged the name and location of the shop.  The surprising ease of the conversation replayed in your mind as you did some light makeup and picked out an outfit with great care.  It was chillier today, so a cute sweater would do the trick.  Opting to skip cereal in favor of a muffin from the bakery/cafe you worked at, you were out the door in an instant.  You’d pulled some strings to get your classes moved up to 10- grabbing coffee with the famous GeorgeNotFound was obviously more important. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, fine, it wasn’t- but you hadn’t done something like this in a loooong time.  You deserved it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, with a fresh smile on your face after the two previous days of cram studying you finally made your way to work.  You treated it like a normal shift, greeting your co-workers and asking one of them to cover your shift for an hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” she’d scoffed.  You knew her well enough to be able to ask her for a favor like this, but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shyly, you answered, “I have a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately all the disdain dropped from her face and was replaced with giddy excitement.  “Oh my gosh, with who?!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look so surprised!”  You sarcastically laughed.  “I can get a mans if I want to!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes jokingly.  “Sure, sure… so how much did ya bribe him?”  You returned the comment with a playful smack.  After a bit more banter you finally confessed,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine I’ll tell you!  He’s a guy I met at some random cafe a week ago… he's actually sorta famous,” you rose you eyebrows flirtatiously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oooooh, sis, score!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait you didn’t let me finish!  He’s famous- but for playing minecraft.”  At that you both broke into good natured laughter.  Obviously it didn’t embarrass you or anything, you didn’t think any less of him because of it.  But still, the prospect of telling someone your ‘date’ was a professional video game player… more than a little giggle worthy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were working as the cashier and your co-worker was making up a drink as you joked,  faintly hearing the shopkeeper’s bell ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s quite a man you scored!” she laughed, and as you were about to turn and respond you heard a faint “pardon me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you, separated only by the cash register was a man a little taller than you dressed in jeans, hands stuffed in the pockets of a gray jacket on top of a navy sweatshirt.  You didn’t even need to look at his face to know who it was- you’d seen him wear that sweatshirt at least ten times on stream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-hi!”  Your face was probably bright pink, and before you could even let everything register you ran your fingers through your hair, now messy courtesy of a busy morning of work.  “Hi George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your co-worker must have gotten the memo and took the other waiting customer’s order.  Thank god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally you worked up the courage to look up at him, but immediately wished you hadn’t.  Seeing him from a screen for the past 8 days had brought your nerves to a boiling point, one that was just about to be passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, erm sorry for being early.  I’ve never been here before,” he said looking around at the place, allowing you to see his jawline in person.  His hair that looked almost brown on screen was jet black, straightened and neat like his outfit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no worries!  My bad, I should’ve expected you.  Would you like anything?”  You responded quickly, trying to break the tension.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he chuckled, his soft dimples suddenly making the place glow.  You couldn’t look away from his glowing eyes, even more luminous in person- if that was even possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, well I probably should’ve told you this before but I’m actually not too fond of coffee.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your face heated once again.  “Oh really?  Haha you should’ve let me know!  That makes this the second time we’ve gotten coffee together!”  You felt embarrassed at your wording although not knowing why.  Something about the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>together.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And to your surprise, he must’ve felt it too as you spotted a bit of pink dust his cheeks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you’d blinked, you’d have missed it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, anything else?  Free muffin, or pastry- anything you’d like.”  He shook his head politely.  “Alright, just give me a minute and I’ll meet you.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swept yourself around to the back, trying to recompose yourself as you removed your apron.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank god he didn’t hear our conversation!  That was way too close. </span>
  </em>
  <span> You were jittery enough as-is, but the surprise of his earliness only startled you more.  Still, after you neatened your hair and grabbed your purse it was like you were completely different from your work self.  You waved goodbye to your co-worker who replied with a knowing smirk, and headed out the door to where he was waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” you greeted again, blinded by the sudden brightness of the sun in contrast to the moody shop.  The smell of baked goods was nice, but the fresh scent of autumn was better.  “So, where to?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You got a better look at George, all bundled up and squinting at the sun, as he remained in a gentle silence for a moment.  You were struck by his shyness, or at least his untalkativeness, compared to all the videos you’d watched.  Perhaps your deduction of him as a person based on all of that was completely wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But how could someone be so bold in front of millions, while so timid in front of one? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” George finally said, “You’re the one that asked me, right?”  You felt at ease in the pensiveness you’d now perceived from him.  It didn’t feel like you were competing for anything, or trying to be anything you weren’t.  You let the quiet between you exist, the spaces simply float at ease.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out an amused hum.  “I suppose.  Well I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t really think that far ahead.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You added, “I didn’t think that GeorgeNotFound himself would actually show up to meet </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George winced slightly at the mention of his online persona.  “Oh, you found me?”  He seemed a mix of disappointed and embarrassed, but you couldn’t lie now.  Not that you wanted to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, well, it’s not like you’re hard to find.  But don’t worry, it’s not like I stalked your page or anything.”  That’s exactly what you did.  “Honestly I was just curious about what you told me you’d been working on, I wanted to check it out for myself.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were relieved when he grinned, his soft smile once again bringing color to your cheeks.  You both naturally started walking along the sidewalk to the left, flanked by stores and shops of all kinds.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how often do you walk around town like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled.  “Not very often.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?  Any reason besides streaming?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, editing and all that stuff, takes up most of my day.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I wish I could go out more as well.  It’s tough, school and everything.”  As soon as the conversation shifted to you, it felt as though George’s eyes lost their deadness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right, you’re in school.  Studying nearby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,”  you told him your major and school.  “It's tough but… I wouldn’t trade living here for anything.  Have you lived in England your whole life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m probably the most British person you’ve ever met,” he laughed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?  I doubt that, I’ve met some pretty British people around these parts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggled thinking up a memory.  “One time, I saw an old lady at the store wearing a dress with the British flag on it.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?  Oh dear, that sounds like something my nan would do.”  You both giggled, adding to a chorus of chirping birds, passing conversations and rustling leaves.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh, and another time I saw someone buy 5 whole jars of Marmite at a grocery store.  What could you possibly be doing with 5 jars of that stuff?  Should be illegal!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“5 jars?  Alright, that's a lot even for me, and I love Marmite.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stopped in your tracks and stared at him for dramatic effect.  “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marmite?!  As in, you not only tolerate it, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy </span>
  </em>
  <span>it?”  George chuckled embarassedly, probably at how stupid you looked stopped in the middle of the sidewalk yelling about Marmite, but you didn’t care.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, it’s good!  Like, on bread and stuff,” he said, but you kept your disgusted expression on.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I don’t think we can be friends if you like that stuff,” you overdramatically announced.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed sarcastically.  “Well, it’s you that shouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marmite capital</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the world, if you don’t like it!  I’m just normal!”  </span>
</p><p><span>You scrunched up your nose, admitting defeat as you continued walking.  Needless to say, the ice was broken.  Finally.  </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>And still, that stupid voice in your head kept repeating what had come out of your mouth just a moment ago.</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Friend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Handsome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Im not suuuper happy with this chapter, but it's a short one to prep for the next one (which I adore) so hopefully you find a little bit of enjoyment out of it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, what’s the most British thing you’ve ever done?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that even mean?  Like, what do you want me to say, drink tea?  I don’t even like tea!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, that’s a surprise.  No coffee, no tea… lemme guess, you drink pure Marmite for breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking under a canopy of leaves, you knew this whole “British” shtick was getting old.  But it was pretty clear that talking about anything YouTube or social-media related made George uncomfortable, so you tried your best to avoid it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, very funny,” he snickered.  A beat of silence followed, and of course your thoughts were all on him.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s so cute.  What if I messed this up?  God, I’m so annoying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily the atmosphere was too positive to let your anxieties thrive, which you were ever thankful for.  Each time a breeze blew past, you pretended it was blowing away one of your giddy insecurities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we going anywhere particular?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Oh, uh not really.  I just figured since it was nice out, we could just walk around.”  He nodded cutely.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly I don’t really go around here too often,”  you chuckled, “And I imagine the same for you, Mr. Streamer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed.  “True, you’re a quick learner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” you began, “If you weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>forced</span>
  </em>
  <span> outside, what would you be doing around now?”  You were genuinely curious, although your sarcastic quip lightened the ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought for a moment.  “Well, I’d honestly probably be sleeping still- I sorta just wake up and nap whenever I feel like it.  But other than that, probably talking to my friends.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like Dream?” you asked.  He nodded, a strange look in his eyes.  A mix between curiosity and knowingness, you felt.  “Who else?  I’ll be honest, I’m not super familiar with the gaming community.”  That was a lie, you’d done plenty of research; but playing naive seemed to have worked the best for you so far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah I wouldn’t expect you to be.  To be honest, I’d be a bit strange if you did know everything about me- like, it makes it feel as if I’m the only one meeting someone knew, if that makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I get that.”  You silently thanked your ability to pick up on social cues.  “I presume most of your interactions are like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed in agreement.  “It’s not, like, bad or anything… just a bit awkward.  I rarely have conversations with strangers to begin with, and when they know all about me it makes it sort of strange.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d imagine.  But, I also sort of get it.  I mean, I’d probably do the same if I saw a handsome celebrity out in the wild.”  Your face flushed as you realized you’d just called him attractive.  “Oh!  I didn’t mean it like-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, don’t worry it’s fine.”  He changed the subject, but him rubbing the back of his neck alluded to some discomfort.  It didn’t help that you found the action particularly attractive…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, do you play any video games?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”  Distracted, you’d just barely heard the question, but luckily caught it.  “Oh, well not really.  Animal crossing I suppose, I’ve tried Zelda.  I’ve played minecraft, but, well, it’s embarrassing to say that in front of pro minecrafter.”  You both laughed lightly, turning another corner.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, although it’s more embarrassing on my end I can assure you,” he rubbed his neck again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you mean?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well, the title of pro-minecrafter isn’t exactly… prestigious, I guess.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?  I think it’s cool!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, but didn’t look convinced.  The shallow crease of his eyebrows made you want to fill him with all the admiration you felt for him, that he couldn’t see.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m serious.  Imagine doing what you love, every day.  No schedule, no rules- all that freedom, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ve heard all that.  Sometimes I sorta feel like I don’t deserve it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s the great bit!  It doesn’t matter if you deserve it or not, because you have it, right?”  Your admiration was bursting at the seams, you didn’t even know what you said and if it made sense or not.  But to your joy, it seemed to work.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sparkle in his eyes returned, matching the yellow blossoms guarding the trees on your path.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You grinned, and he did as well.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Between Bookshelves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I dunno why but I really like this chapter... something about cozy bookstores drives me crazy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Basking in the now shaded sidewalk and shops that lined it, the pair of you strolled in silence for a few moments.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, one store caught your eye, at the corner of the block.  A small, quaint bookstore: Leslie’s Novels.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, that shop looks cute, want to look around?”  You asked bubbly, to which he agreed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as you entered through the rather short doorway (which George had to duck through) it was as though you were transported to the likes of Harry Potter or some other fantastical bookshop.  Alright, that was a bit of an exaggeration- but the clash from clear England air to this was enough to invoke a bit of magic.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The indoors were taller than you’d perceived from the inside, shelves of books filling two floors with a small spiraling staircase connecting them.  The front counter was vacant, you assumed the owner was in the back or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze landed on George as he was looking up and around, and you felt something deep inside of you slipping.  Slowly and softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you brought yourself to a nearby windowside shelf and ran your fingers along the aged spines of countless books, the nostalgic scent of parchment and paper filled your senses.  George had wandered to a shelf nearby, and something in your heart for some reason urged you to run over there and hug him.  You had to physically shake your head to get rid of those dreamy stupid thoughts- probably the spawn of the dream-like nature of the place.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You half expected a witch to pop out from the back, but alas, it was just a quiet middle aged woman who greeted you kindly and returned to her sorting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alright, confession: you’d actually had another motive for going into the shop instinctively.  A childhood worth of rom-coms taking place in bookstores just like this one had trained you into feeling a symbiotic relationship between love and books, deep in your soul.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe a child-like part of you that still believed in spontaneous love wanted to dramatically confess your love to George in a setting just as magical.  And you’d be lying if you said your adult self didn’t feel the tiniest urge to give in  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But luckily, it wasn’t enough to make you completely lose your senses.  As you mindlessly pulled out a book and flipped through the pages to smell its aroma, you kept a careful reading on how George moved, how he interacted with the books before him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked them up with tender hands, flipping through them with the insatiability of a young bright-eyed teen.  His eyes followed the sentences like you’d remembered him following the lines of code the first time you’d met.  And his lips… they moved, or rather quivered, ever so slightly- was he humming?  Perhaps.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You set the book in your hands down, slightly shuffling towards him while appearing like you were looking at the hundreds of titles.  When he was within speaking distance, he looked up at you as though caught off guard.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it you like books?”  You murmured softly, matching the softness of the setting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed, “Mhmm, I used to never be without them.  But that was a while ago, now it just feels…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-nostalgic,”  you finished.  You smiled up at him, once again admiring how his features caught the warm light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat.  “Looking for anything in particular?”  He shuffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t stop looking at him.  “Nope.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright then.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s see what they have upstairs.”  You grabbed him by his gloved hand and led him to the staircase.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d chickened out.  There was a moment!  The tension was there, you felt it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you were too nervous to go anywhere with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted in surprise at the touch, but followed you playfully up the stairs.  They creaked under your feet- probably hadn’t been used by anyone besides the owner in weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt yourself wobbling a bit, and George helped you straighten yourself by supporting your arms.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat rose to your cheeks at the contact but you quickly shook it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of books was clearer up here, unobstructed by the outdoors.  It felt almost like a cozy attic, you giggled at how George almost had to hunch to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The perks of being short!” you chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?  I can’t hear you from down there,”  he joked, and you responded by sticking out your tongue.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swept yourself behind one of the bookshelves in the back, peering at him through the books.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh George!” you teased, and he giggled, hitting his head on a beam.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed even more, trying your very best to keep your voice down in the store.  He rubbed his head pretending to be offended, and you promptly mocked his action by acting like an old man with head pain.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it.  Something about the energy he created made you want to make him laugh, and as long as it was working you’d keep going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your cute flirting was cut short, though, by him getting a rather loud notification.  You hadn’t realized that this was the first one he’d gotten- so he probably kept his phone on silent.  Otherwise he’d probably be flooded with them non-stop.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked down, and it took all your decency to not peek at who the text was from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he read it though, his face twisted into a small frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, I think I have to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were a tiny bit hurt- I mean, since the guy had no real schedule, couldn’t he just wait another hour?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright.”  Perhaps he noticed your fallen expression (which you’d tried to hide) because he responded,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t leave like this unless it was sort of important.”  He pocketed his phone and his hands along with it.  “It was my friend Dream, he needs me for something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your disappointment drained, replaced with sympathy.  “It’s fine!  I totally get it- don’t feel bad or anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His relief was contagious, and you believed its genuineness.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to do this again, though, if you’re cool with that,”  he stuttered the tiniest bit, which you found indescribably adorable.  “Here, do you have discord?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded, despite using it a grand total of one time this entire year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good.  I’m a pretty bad texter, I use discord, like, ninety-nine percent of the time.  Is it alright if I give you my username?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You exchanged names and added each other quickly, still enveloped by the cascades of bookshelves.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There, now we can chat.”  Your cheeks flushed again, the uninvited image of late night texting popping into your mind.  You nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to walk you back?  I’ve got nothing to do today,”  you offered.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it.  I wish I could offer the same but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hummed in agreement, both of you making your way downstairs.  You quickly waved goodbye to the owner, George again ducking out the doorway.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was fun!” you smiled.  “Well, this is where I leave you, my dear George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And to you too, my dear.”  You both erupted into giggles, soaking up the last bit of sun that shined from his laughs.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I should actually go now,”  he shuffled.  His hands stayed fidgeting in his pockets, and so did yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright!  See you!”  You waved, beginning your journey back the way you came.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye!”  George said, returning your wave and turning the other way, leaving your sight as you did his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as you were obscured by the corner bend, you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was too much for you to think about- but luckily, you had the whole way to do just that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just another sunny English day, right?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Irradiant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another chapter!!! I sort of like the stark contrast from last chapter's warm bookstore to this one's computer-light-in-a-dark-bedroom, if you know what i mean.  Heat waves vibes, ya know?  I dunno, I hope you like this chapter- dialogue's sorta hard for me, but it's supposed to be a bit awkward so I think it fits.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The following days felt like shallower versions of the nights between first meeting George and going to the bookstore.  Slowly you began seeping back into normalcy, but there was still the lingering smell of pages on your clothes and with it the soft longing for George’s presence to return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your messages remained empty, at least from him.  You’d downloaded the discord app, and after teaching yourself how to navigate it you finally worked up the courage to contact him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hello, it’s me again!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>7 hours later</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hi!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The brevity of the interaction stung, but it wasn’t like you initiated anything.  It’d only been a handful of days, and plus unlike your crush, life was evermoving.  Your classes dragged on between shifts at the coffee shop, and you assumed that George’s days were equally if not a bit less repetitive.  At every break in your thoughts you found yourself wondering what he was up to, what he was doing, what he was thinking about…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, one thing interesting did happen, about a night after your “date”.  You managed to catch one of his streams on Twitch, the stars must have aligned because it began right after one of your classes ended.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately after getting the purple notification </span>
  <em>
    <span>GeorgeNotFound is Live: Streaming Minecraft</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’d thrown your laptop open and navigated right to twitch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there he was, plastered across the length of your entire face.  It felt almost a bit intrusive for you to allow your gaze to pour so insatiably upon him, but you couldn’t resist.  His soft dimples and rosy cheeks, his soft brown eyes and contagious smile- not to even mention how cute he looked in that gray sweatshirt and of course headphones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You recalled how weird it was to see him without those on, it was like they were part of his persona.  At least from everything you’d seen about him online which, in the past weeks, was a lot.  Your tiktok feed was practically entirely GeorgeNotFound clips but… that was irrelevant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway, you remember yourself sinking into the soft release of listening to his voice, joking and responding to donos and getting frustrated over dying in Minecraft.  You’d never speed-ran Minecraft before in your life, but after watching an hour and a half of him *attempt* it you felt like knew everything there was to know about it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were far too cowardly to type in the chat- although it wasn’t like he knew who you were anyway.  Still the flying past of adorable messages warmed your heart.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ily George!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gogy ur my favoriteee</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pls marry me george</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You chuckled, trying to imagine that timid boy from yesterday being swarmed by fans in real life.  That’d sure be a sight, if he was anything around his fans how he was with you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anonymity sure gave people confidence, didn’t it.  It sucked that you didn’t have that, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise.  After all, without a screen to hide behind all the time he was sort of forced to notice you.  Or rather, forced to interact with you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The burning temptation at your fingertips to click on the discord icon and message him didn’t fade all throughout the week.  You’d drafted a few messages, but they all seemed creepy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something like ‘I saw ur twitch stream, it was good!’ seemed appealing to you in the moment, but the more you thought about it the more unnerving it sounded.  Should you even tell him that you watch his twitch?  Maybe it would make him uncomfortable.  Like everyone, he probably has a social life and work life separation, right?  Intruding on that might be a bit weird, especially since you were still feeling things out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sighed, stretching in the purple light of your laptop in the dark bedroom.  You were about to delete the message, but the side of your hand hit the return key and the few words you’d typed out appeared right above a little “22:32”.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your fingers hovered for a moment, the fact that the message had sent registering.  You could’ve deleted it of course, but you just shrugged and let it go.  Ah, well, I guess the universe made the decision of whether or not to respond for you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason it was like a weight was lifted off your chest, a breath of euphoria.  With that you shut your laptop with a satisfying click, and set it on the table beside you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes fluttered shut, quieting your mind and allowing yourself to-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do-do!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The chime from your phone immediately made your eyes fly open and fingers hastily unlock it, re-adjusting to the harsh light.  You squinted to see better, and spotted a periwinkle notification appear on your homescreen. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘A discord message from George: Was it now?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled.  Your fingers moved before your thoughts did.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Haha, don’t get too cocky speedrunner boy &gt;.&lt;’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh don’t worry, there wasn’t much to be cocky about’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The discord chirp was quickly becoming comforting to your ears.  But the ellipsis next to his name as he responded certainly wasn’t.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Congrats, you got to watch 3 hours of my fail at speedrunning!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Wdym??’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>you replied, then typed below it “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, i prob shouldn’t be judging what’s good speedrunning, i barely know what it means”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Loll, it’s when u beat the game by beating the ender dragon’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I know that much! I just don’t know all the complicated shit, Like when u built that portal so fast, that was crazy!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d never admit it in a lifetime but you had found it rather attractive. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Well, alright then if u think that’s cool, u should watch dream’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I just might do that’ </span>
  </em>
  <span> you hesitated, then added </span>
  <em>
    <span>“but i like watching u better”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Is that so? Maybe i could teach u what i know someday’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly your stomach was full of flutters, and you clutched a pillow to your chest to relieve excitement that hadn’t been there just a second ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Wow, lessons from THE speedrunning master? I’d be honored’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Lmaoo’ </span>
  </em>
  <span> A pause that felt like hours followed the message before he added,</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘well, i’ve got some important speedrunning business to attend to, but it was nice talking to u!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You groaned, wondering when the cheesy formalities were going to end.  Still, there was something charming about them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You too!  And I’ll make sure to take u up on ur offer’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After you’d seen that he was no longer active, you let out a sigh. You quickly scrolled up your short conversation again as your face began to feel warm and fuzzy.  The feeling flowed to your stomach and fingers, and you felt light once again- the floating feeling.  At the same time it felt like you were glowing, a ball of radiance in your dark room.  You could get used to these kinds of late night conversations.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Your smile had never left, and it stayed plastered on your face making you look like an idiot even as you returned your phone to its place on the bedside table.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And despite your newfound jitteriness, you still managed to quiet your mind enough to grow tired.  Sleep came easily after that, calm and soft- and totally not thinking of running your fingers through George’s hair. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So yeah, like I said in the beginning notes the dialogue is still pretty stiff, but I did that on purpose to try and capture the relationship at this moment.  They're not quite close enough to be "friends", per se, especially considering George's definition of friendship is a lot closer than most people would think it is.  But we're getting there, one interaction at a time!  It'll start to speed up from here, thank you to everyone who's stuck with me!  I genuinely appreciate you so much. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Desert Temple</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>“Hey, wait up</span> <span>!! Not everyone’s a master at parkour!” </span></p><p>
  <span>A blocky character was jumping and running across your bright computer screen, and you hastily clicked the mouse and space bar to try and catch up.  The desert landscape and mountainous background of Minecraft was pulled up on your monitor for the first time in years- you’d had to re-download it which took hours and lots of pleas for help through discord.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t even parkour, it’s just running!”  George’s milky sweet voice rang through the computer speakers- you didn’t have headphones, but hearing him talk outloud made it seem that much more real to you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scoffed, finally catching up to where he’d stopped by a desert temple.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, now whatever you do- DON’T step on the pressure plate at the bottom of the temple, got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure- I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You followed his lead inside and watched as he mined down carefully.  You jumped down to follow him but accidentally landed on the ground- </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sssss- Boom!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A screen of red and a message reading “You Died!” now filled your screen, filling your whole bedroom with the rosy hue.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on!” You both said simultaneously, and you slammed your hands on the desk for extra dramatic effect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The one thing I told you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know!! You should’ve been more specific, George!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed wholesomely, chuckling as you respawned thousands of blocks away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour ago, you’d messaged George on discord asking if he was free to teach you Minecraft- you were a person of your word, after all.  And about 40 minutes ago, he’d replied saying yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The anxiety and excitement inside barely had any time to leap at his reply, because immediately after he asked you to vc.  And so you did, trying your best to stay polite and quiet at first.  But within practically 30 seconds of loading up the game and joining his server, your frustration came out- and with it, the rest of your personality under all that fluff.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a bit longer for George to open up, but perhaps he was just more natural to begin with.  After all, he was way more used to voice chatting than you were.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made you smile each time he cracked a stupid joke, and teased you as though you’d always been such good friends.  There seemed to be a mutual feeling of comfort, that you intended to bask in for as long as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess you’ve got to start from the beginning!  Your stuff’s all blown up,” he snorted, and you growled in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, what will I ever do without my 3 flowers and 5 sticks!” you sarcastically quipped back, receiving another mutual giggle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t sure what it was that made it so easy for you to be yourself with George over discord, when you were so tense just a few days ago in person.  Perhaps the barrier of a screen, or the lack of face-to-face.  It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that you felt as though now, finally, you were in his home court.  This was what he was used to: talking to friends through discord and seeing them through Minecraft.  And you could sure get used to that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I craft an axe again?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“2 sticks in the bottom middle slots, then 3 more above making an upside down L shape- like, the top 2 are filled and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, I think I got it!  Yay, tree time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, while I’m waiting I guess I’ll try to find some iron since </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> blew up our chances at diamonds-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!  That was, like 2 minutes ago- give it a rest!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine,”  he laughed.  You were intensely concentrated on cutting down trees, so grateful that George couldn’t see the stupid face you were making. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You only lasted 2 minutes anyway,” you barely heard him murmur, which you immediately retorted and pretended to act mad, then sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I guess I’ll just go the other way and build my own little house, BY </span>
  <em>
    <span>MYSELF!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” you huffed, selecting a cute flower-filled field to start construction in, far, far away from the desert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, I thought we were speedrunning!” Oh yea, you’d forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe you are, but I’m building the best house you’ve ever seen- just watch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, “Considering you just downloaded the game, I wouldn’t hold my breath.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Although, it’ll most likely be better than anything I could build so go right on ahead.  I’ll just beat the ender dragon and bring back the egg for you to use as, like, a flower vase or something,” he laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, fine!  I’ll join you, I actually do want to beat the ender dragon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, my coordinates are X: 145 and Z: 679,” he relayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, why’s there no y coordinate?” you asked while skipping through the virtual forest back towards spawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the height, it’s irrelevant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohhhh, god I’m such a noob.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I haven’t heard someone say the word ‘noob’ since, like, 2013.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun (in-game) was beginning to set, matching the time of day it was in real life.  Although since it was autumn it was still rather early in the evening, despite the foolery of the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mauve and peach pixels painted the Minecraft sky, and you were oddly struck at how pretty it looked.  A nice place for a date, you thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, look at you- chasing a guy in a video game made of blocks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were quickly snapped out of your daze by a sharp smack sound from the game as you took 2 hearts of damage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey what was that?!”  You quickly identified the skeleton that had shot you, and charged towards it with your axe swinging.  “Cm’here, useless mob.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was laughing at your efforts as you audibly took way more damage than he probably would’ve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, stop laughing George!  Come save me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m too far!  If you hadn’t died-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omg, if you don’t let that go- aaaah!!” you wailed as a swarm of husks attacked you from behind just as you finished off the skeleton.  “George help! I’m on 3 hearts!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming, I’m coming, where are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m-” you were cut off by the second death message of today.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>You Died!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George burst into laughter, and your rage only made him laugh more.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!! I WAS SO CLOSE!”  But you couldn’t be bothered to keep up your exaggerated angriness for very long, and eventually dissolved into giggles as well.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was cut short when a bunch of discord pings for George sounded through the call.  Plenty of them had gone off before, scattered throughout your conversation but this time he started typing loudly in response to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, um, is it alright if one of my friends joins us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bit your bottom lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span> Friend?  Why would they want to be in a call with you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” you replied- they were probably just wondering what he was up to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, cool.  If he gets too annoying, let me know and I’ll kick him,” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You started giggling and typing out a response, when the message at the bottom of the chat silenced you. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream has been added to the chat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>awooga cliffhanger!! I'm so hyped for the next chapter...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What do you want?”  You felt the immediate change in George’s voice- sarcasm dripping off it and sparkling with newfound adoration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then you heard it- that familiar, light chuckle you’d heard in basically all of George’s videos.  But this time, it was live.  In your discord call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was in your discord call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were basically frozen, unsure of what to say- if anything.  It was like you were barely there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, can’t I just see what my friend’s been up to for 2 hours?”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>2 hours?! Surely we hadn't played for that long…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream's voice sounded exactly like it did in all his videos, having a unique rhythm and tone quality that could only be his.  It put you at ease instantly, and you could feel the friendship between him and George oozing out of both their inflections.  You let out a soft sigh, your shoulders untensing as your fingers relaxed gently over the keys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I guess… weirdo. Anyway, we were just playing minecraft. This is-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You interjected, suddenly finding your voice.  You told him your name, with a soft giggle. “Hi, Dream. I’m George’s… friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friend?” You could hear his eyebrows rise through the call- although you couldn't imagine it without a face coming to mind.  “So, how’d you two meet?”  He slurred his words to insinuate that there was something more, which you easily scoffed at.  You were surprised by your own confidence, but welcomed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, dimwit!” George grumbled, and your face heated.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’d talked about me?  With Dream?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, coffee shop girl!  Nice to meet you,” he said in his sunshine voice.  Your flattery faded with the entrance of the new nickname- one that you weren’t all that fond of especially since George apparently hated coffee.  But still your sense of humor got the best of you, with the added pressure of making a good first impression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup, coffee shop girl, at your service.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were nervous as could be, but George seemed to be in the same state if his awkward chuckle was any indication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that it, Dream?  You done snooping?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, Gogy, you that eager for me to leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”  If you hadn’t known the strength of their friendship from their videos, George’s frustration would’ve been believable.  But as it was, it was just incredibly funny to you.  Flattering, even, was the fact that you flustered him enough to act differently around his best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your Minecraft date!”  Dream taunted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not what, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gogy</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”  You let your sarcastic sense of humor slip unabashedly.  “Are you telling me that this whole time we weren’t on a Minecraft date?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, very funny,” he said, dripping with just as much sarcasm as you.  Just like how the two of you’d been just a minute ago, before Dream joined the call.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed- his signature impossible-not-to-smile-at laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.  The fact that Dream was a bonafide celebrity in your mind never left, but somehow it bothered you less and less.  In fact, it was kind of exciting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was perhaps just as famous, and he didn’t make you nervous- well, he did, but for a different reason.  Anyway, if you could quell your fear around him, why not with Dream?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay actually, Dream, what are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay actually, George, I wanna get to know your Minecraft girlfriend!”  George groaned as you both chuckled, and as stupid as the joke was it still made you blush and your fingers sweat slightly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not my- god nevermind, prick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, watch your language!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not on stream dickhead!”  George cursing sent a weird shiver down your spine… you sort of liked it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GeorgeNotFound curses offstream confirmed?” you chuckled softly.  Dream giggled again and even George let out a chuckle, making you feel above the clouds.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh boy, you’re gonna have your hands full with this one- he’s got the dirtiest mouth I’ve ever heard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I do not!  I’ve stopped, you’re the bad one Dream.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah whatever you say,”  Dream hummed.  “So are you gonna invite me to the game or not?”  You’d almost forgot you still had Minecraft open, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>You Died</span>
  </em>
  <span> screaming red under your discord tab.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have something to do?”  George persisted.  “It’s like, what, 4 pm there?  Aren’t you usually asleep?”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aw, they know each other’s sleep schedules,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you thought.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I had something earlier and then my parents came over for a bit.  Now I’m just killing time before a call with Tommy,” he relayed.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>TommyInnit- that teenager, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” George admitted defeat, and not long after you reopened the game tab and respawned, ‘Dream joined the game’ appeared at the bottom left.  It was sunrise in-game by now, periwinkle sky over that horrid desert.  It illuminated your computer-lit-only room with light blue and white.  Your stuff probably despawned a long time ago, to your dismay, but seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream skin in person cheered you up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hi Dream!” you chirped as he spawned next to you.  You giggled at his stupid skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I never noticed that your skin was the blob thing!”  You exclaimed after examining it for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed wholeheartedly.  “What really?!  You just realized that- wow, I guess you’re not a superfan stalker.  That’s good to know.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… maybe I am, you never know,” you moved your voice up and down suspiciously, like his bobbing green player as it hopped over to a tree.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure anyone that’s watched more than a single video of ours would know what my skin is supposed to be,” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p><span>“Wow, the disrespect- maybe I should watch all your videos again to see what else I missed.”  You noticed your mistake before it came out of your mouth.  “Not that I- I haven’t watched all your videos!  I swear, I’m not a stalker.” </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>The panic in your voice must have been hilarious, because the two of them burst into laughter immediately.  You were relieved they didn’t kick you out of the call right then and there. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, I’ve revealed my true intentions!”  You were already digging your own grave- might as well jump right in.  “I wanted to get close to the beautiful Gogy-poo to brag to all my fellow superfans.  It is I, ‘George_superfan_200’!”  You were dangerously teetering on the edge of cringy and downright unfunny, but as long as it distracted them it was fine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, I can’t believe the random girl I met in a coffee shop turned out to be a crazed stan!”  The relief that pooled in your stomach after his sarcasm-dripped response reached your ears was unmatched.  You thanked your lucky stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No seriously though, I had no idea who you were before you told me your channel.”  You hoped the honesty in your voice was enough to convince him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, that’s why I agreed to meet you again,” George responded softly.  That touched your heart lightly, and you smiled.  “You were genuine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heartbeat was in your throat, and you sat like an idiot staring at the screen.  You pressed your knuckles to your chin, leaning softly on the desk.  The music of the game playing out loud in your dimly lit room was dreamy and soft, just like your emotions in the moment.  Dreamy and soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, lovebirds, I’m still here.”  You jumped at Dream’s voice- his presence had shamefully slipped your mind.  Good thing neither of them could see your face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!”  You and George retorted simultaneously.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed, punching your character in the game.  “Maybe you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> perfect for each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It came back- the feeling.  Humming in your stomach, making you look stupid.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dreamy and soft, and stupid. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Omg, I seriously can't believe I've written 10 chapters.  Thank you guys so much for all of the comments and kudos, i read every single one and they make my day every time without fail.  Thank you, thank you, thank you. </p><p>Yay, we've met Dream!!! And I know what you're thinking: do 'you' know about what the heck DreamNotFound is?  And what's gonna happen. when it hits you in the face?</p><p>No, this isn't a DNF story don't worry.  But that doesn't mean there won't be jokes!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Enchanting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay guys that was fun, I think I’m gonna hop off now- got some stuff to get done,” Dream chimed into his mic.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d only been 20 minutes but felt like 2, running around Minecraft and yelling at each other for stuff.  Okay, mostly you yelling at them to teach you the game while they argued over the best parkourist- but it was charming nonetheless.  You still couldn’t believe that you held a conversation with both Dream and George.  Talking with George already made you terrifyingly giddy, so add his friend with over 15 million subs and it was bound to be a trainwreck.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t, and that filled you with more sunshine than an English sky could offer in a week.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright no worries!  It was lovely to meet you, Dream.”  You couldn’t even contain the bubbliness seeping out of your voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah Dream, thanks for interrupting our speedrunning lesson-” George began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re welcome</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he responded directly to you comically ignoring George, “Thank you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for being grateful.”  You chuckled as he did lightly, even George giggling through an annoyed huff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright alright, go talk to Tommy or whatever.  We’ve still got shit to film this morning so you better be up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tonight?” you asked.  “Isn’t it, like, 10?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er.. oh yeah, it is.  Sorry, I’m on Dream’s schedule- it’s morning there, I think.”  George said hurriedly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, that’s some commitment to a friendship,” you remarked softly.  The prospect of sharing a sleep schedule with your friend living across the world was adorable to you.  Their friendship really was something special, wasn’t it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream chuckled. “Nah, George’s just a simp.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, a simp for your mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t bring yourself not to laugh at the joke’s stupidity, saying your final goodbyes and as Dream finally left the discord call.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence before George chuckled- enough to make you melt once again.  You sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect Dream to be so…” you trailed off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?”  George pressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… real, I guess.  Genuine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he gets that a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, he’s just easy to talk to I guess.  Made me freak out a tiny bit less about the fact that he’s insanely famous,” you chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say insanely, but… I dunno, after knowing him for so long it’s hard to say.  But I guess yeah, he’s one of those guys that is just really honest with his fans.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must be terrifying, though. I don’t know what I’d do with that many eyes on me, being completely myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was silent for a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you like that?  Completely honest, I mean.”  You hoped your tone didn’t come across insensitive, as your question was genuine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Um, well, that’s a… loaded question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s just interesting to me, having the ability to shape your persona to everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well when you put it like that, yeah, I guess I definitely have an online persona.  Like, ‘woah it’s GeorgeNotFound from Dream’s videos, the guy that screams a lot and does coding stuff’!  Yeah, that couldn’t be farther from me in real life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggled, thinking about the shy boy from the coffee shop.  “You can say that again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, what do you mean by that?!” he snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, you’re like the most introverted person ever in public.  At least, that’s the impression I got.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose you’re right.  I rarely go out to begin with, but… people aren’t really my strong suit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ironic, considering you stream in front of, like, tens of thousands of people.  Isn’t that frightening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cool gray of discord painted your screen, your gaze resting on where a green ring illuminated George’s colourful icon.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, not really.  I’ve thought about it a lot, why I get uncomfortable around real fans but can handle being watched doing stupid stuff playing video games by thousands.  It’s just… nevermind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?  You can tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled softly.  “It’s just that it sounds a bit awful, putting it into words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please, I won’t judge.  Just say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright.  I guess it's just- and this is gonna sound horrible- but it’s a lot easier to digest a number like two million when it’s just, like there.  Like, I have to constantly remind myself that it's full of real, actual living people- everytime I look at it, it just doesn’t feel… real.  Like don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful and all that it’s just… overwhelming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get that.  I think it’s hard for anyone to really understand stuff like that, big numbers I mean.  It’s probably impossible, asking that of one person.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I suppose.  Really I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point where I understand that number… every single one being a real person… it’s scary, almost.”  The tiniest quiver in his voice made you want to just steal all of his worries and hide them away.  You wanted to wrap your arms around him and comfort him… but perhaps the calming computer light was good enough.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right.  It is a bit scary.”  You wondered what he was like right now- hunched over his computer, perhaps with a blanket or pillow like you?  Maybe he was getting ready to stream, or about to go to bed.  Had he just showered or just eaten?  His schedule- no, his life was a puzzle to you, and it entranced and excited you at the same time.  It enchanted you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scary,” he repeated in a low murmur.  He was probably sleepy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spooky,” you almost hummed, then erupting into soft giggles to which he added. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You continued talking, back and forth- learning about Goerge’s fears, his life, his crazy sleep schedule.  Although on many occasions a yawn threatened your mouth, you suppressed it.  You could listen to him speak to you for hours, perhaps even fall asleep to the sound of his voice.  But you wouldn’t have the audacity to doze off while he poured his heart out about Minecraft.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly the conversation veered from streaming to youtube to general life stuff, dotting around your life that was less interestingly consumed by university and studies.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re telling me you just sleep whenever you’re tired?  Like, ‘whoops, I’m feelin a bit sleepy right this moment- nap time!’” you exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean you don’t do that?  Wow, must be horrible,” George chuckled, his voice slowly getting softer and more raspy as the conversation went along.  “I’m just joking, I remember how tough it was waking up for uni.  Torture, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah- wait, shit.”  Your fingers sprung to your keyboard and mouse, and frantically clicked over to your school email where you searched for your schedule.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?”  George asked after a moment of your silence.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ughhhh,” you groaned loudly.  “I have a morning class tomorrow!  I forgot, shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed pitifully as you whined in distress.  What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t sleep you longed to hold on to- it was him.  But you knew that you’d kill yourself if you ended up a sleep-deprived mess tomorrow so… it’d be best to leave the conversation where it was.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I really apologize but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be, I get it.  Get some rest.”  Your heart fluttered at his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- ah, thank you.  You’re lovely, George.”  You heard a slight breath through the mic- maybe a huff, but a reaction nonetheless.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was fun,” you said, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Message me sometime, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed in agreement.  “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, George!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye,” George whispered. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Mr. Brightside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OVER ONE THOUSANDS READS???!! WHAT THE FUCK??? you guys are seriously amazing, thank you so much for just clicking on something I wrote.  I genuinely appreciate it more than you know, and i'm SO excited for what's to come!!</p><p>also don't judge the chapter title i had no idea what to call this one</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The shower was steaming when you stepped in, clouds of clear fog washing over your face as locks of water hit your skin.  And with it, lines of dialogue from the night before came to the surface of your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d passed out almost immediately after logging off last night, as it was the only way to shut out all of the craziness that you could think of.  You’d woken up less than enthusiastically before the sun, groaning at having to get ready for your morning uni classes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, as the night before unwrapped you found yourself getting more and more giddy.  You’d really spoken to Dream,  </span>
  <em>
    <span>The </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream, as casually as you would any other new person you’d meet.  And he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>like, super nice.  Nice enough to make your heart sing with sunshine even while being burned in the face by the shower.  You could see why George liked him, even from just one interaction.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And George… ah, George.  You couldn’t help yourself humming and dancing in the shower whilst covered in suds.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The details of what you’d talked about were fuzzy, but his voice was clear in your head.  His gentle tone and sarcastic remarks, the way it lit up when Dream joined the call and softened again when it was just the two of you.  “You’re genuine”, he’d said.  He’d asked you to message him sometime.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pressed your fingers to your forehead thinking about all the idiodic shit you’d said last night- probably without thinking.  You’d called him lovely- well, it was true, but what could’ve possibly come over you to say it to him?  The late night and artificial computer light were a dangerous combination for your tongue, especially when talking to someone that meant something to you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And somehow the lack of intimacy of a discord call lent itself to some kind of faux confidence- that could quite possibly be the death of you if you didn’t control it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slipping out of the shower and into a fresh outfit, force of habit made you pick up your phone and click on discord.  Without even thinking, your finger hovered over your private messages with George.  And next to his icon was a green dot- he was online. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had he been up this whole time?  You recalled him telling you that he’d only just woken up an hour before calling you so… that was a distinct possibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hesitated before quickly typing “still up?” and clicking send.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whilst fixing your hair, a delightful chime told you he’d responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Was abt to go to bed, guess not lmao’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart skipped a beat as you read the next message,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Call?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You set down your brush and asked, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Discord?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your phone vibrated as he said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘i’m in bed so, like, call call is easier’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about the words “I’m in bed” sent your mind absolutely into a frenzy- curse your dirty-ass mind.  You shooed away the stupid thoughts and butterflies, and responded in agreement while navigating to the phone app.  Just as you did his incoming call filled up your screen, and you accepted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, good morning.”  George’s voice was low and raspy, and it was clear that he was laying down.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You masked your unhealthy embarrassment with a giggle.  “Erm, good night?  You weren’t kidding about that sleep schedule, huh,” you laughed, as did he.  It was low and rough, unlike his usual voice but still recognizable in the pattern of his laughter.  You were beyond flustered but still managed to keep it together as you headed to the kitchen to grab your bag and a snack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off to uni then?” he asked, and you hummed in agreement.  You made your way out the door and into the cloudy yet bright morning, the path to the bus stop ingrained in the back of your mind for you to follow.  This was one of the only two classes you had in person, since the quarantine had allowed for a few departments to open up.  Having to get up and ready wasn’t particularly exciting for you, but it was a good change of pace from attending class in your pajamas.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how was your night- erm, or day, I guess, then?” you asked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Productive- Dream and I finished up a few thumbnails and video concepts.  We didn’t get to filming but… that’s Sapnap’s fault, and his stupid streaming schedule.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well at least he streams!” you joked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m… busy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Busy teaching me to speedrun?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, maybe I’ll cancel the lessons then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait no, no it’s alright!  I won’t guilt trip you into streaming anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just messing with you.”  You felt his sleepy voice soften and almost melted at the shift, hearing bedsheets rustle through the call as he probably tried to get comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you do this often?  Calling in bed, I mean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, I mean the only people I really call are my friends so it doesn’t really seem strange I guess.”  You hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, when you say it like that it makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what were you thinking of then?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?  Nothing!  I dunno it’s just… the wording I guess,” you stammered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, well I suppose I see how that could be taken… weirdly.  You win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed, and continued talking until you made it to the bus stop.  Taking a glance at your watch it seemed you were a few minutes early. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are you up for Minecraft again tonight?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I wish  I could but I’ve got some shit to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.  That’s fine.”  You tried your best to hide your petty disappointment, but it probably came through a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a stream to be on,” he continued, “and knowing Dream he’s probably gonna make me help him edit or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what stream?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just my friend Quackity, he begged me to be on it so… there’s only so many excuses I can give him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you not like him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Oh, no, no!  It’s not like that.  He’s hilarious, his streams are a blast.  They just take a lot out of me, plus it's on the smp which probably means roleplay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tried to pretend to know what he was talking about, but got the general idea.  The happiness in his tone mixed with his sleepy voice was something you knew you couldn’t live without after getting a taste of.  And, you knew for sure you’d have a stream to watch tonight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the bus pulled up with a deafening screech you said goodbye and ‘goodnight’, your smile not fading even as the almost-empty bus began it’s route.  You popped on a song- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr Brightside.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Closing your eyes and thinking, nothing in the world felt better.  Well, maybe sitting next to George would- but at that moment you were complete.  You were happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It started out with a kiss</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How did it end up like this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Video Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're finally getting the ball rolling!! When I said slow burn, I meant it.  You guys are in for a ride!!</p><p>Thank you for leaving kudos and comments, it makes my day and I promise I read every one of them.  Next chapter's gonna be fun, sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger (spoiler) !!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your concentrated eyes once again hung over a screen of blocks, frantically swinging at a pure black creature with glowing purple eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear if you die now-”  George began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aghhh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You huffed as ‘YOU DIED’ lit up the screen in red, knowing that a similar message appeared at the left corner of George’s.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?!  We’re literally in the End!”  George exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!!  Those things were too fast, I couldn’t kill them all!”  You cried in protest.  Those stupid endermen; you’d had full diamond and were so close to beating the game with George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it’s fine.  Good thing we set our spawn- just go through the portal again and grab your stuff.  I’m almost done getting the crystals-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, got it.”  As you clicked the respawn button you were suddenly back in the creepy stronghold, and hopped through the ink-black portal.  You were ashamed to admit that sweat had begun beading on your forehead from all of this gaming- you’d spent at least the past 2 hours, maybe more, gathering materials and learning how to play the game all for this moment.  “Don’t kill it all the way,” you reminded George.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t, although I might if you keep taking your sweet time!”  His voice always softened when he made a joke like that, as if worried you might get offended this time despite having gone at each other for two hours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m sorry, it’s almost like this is my first time playing!”  He laughed sharply in concentration as you heard another explosion through his headset.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boom, there’s the last one,” he said as you picked up all your stuff from where it was left in the middle of the circle of obsidian towers.  You put on your armor as fast as humanly possible with your small amount of experience, and met him at the bedrock portal that lay in the center. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so the dragon’s gonna swoop down in a few seconds.  Remember those beds I gave you?  Place one down right there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You followed his instructions, placing a block in front of it like he told you to.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now when I say go, click the bed.  Can you do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you said determinedly.  “Won’t that blow up though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled.  “Yep.  Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You clicked it right as the dragon appeared and- </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Boom!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  It’s already halfway empty health bar lowered down to zero as it exploded in a flash of white and purple.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go!!!” you both cheered, giving each other a virtual high-five punch in the game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did it!” you said, pumping your fist in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did it, congrats on your first win!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, like I could’ve done it without you, George!  You basically did it yourself- I just get the credit!”  You both laughed wholeheartedly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun had set, stars were up and barely visible through your window.  The sound of your fan, George’s voice and the game were all that filled your bedroom and the dim lamp and computer screen were all that provided light.  You were practically sealed to the chair after having sat in it for so long, but you didn’t mind.  It’d been hours but felt like minutes, every moment of giggles and sarcasm cherished in your heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d argued over the best type of wood, where to build a house (George didn’t even want to at all) and whether or not to get netherite (you’d insisted that the nether was too annoying to stay in for any longer than necessary).  A myriad of memories in just one gameplay, in one complete game of Minecraft that George had probably played hundreds of.  Still, you hoped you’d made this one special for him.  You thought you did, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What now?” you asked giggling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?  We beat the game!”  George said.  His voice was still just as expressive after having talked for so long, while yours was pretty burnt out and raspy.  It was his job, you supposed.  He must be used to it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I can’t go see my dog again?” you asked somberly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you can- just go through the portal.”  He gestured to the portal that’d appeared next to the egg.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” you said, feeling dumb.  You jumped through, coming back to reality as your eyes glossed over the congratulatory messages.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This takes a while,” he said, sighing and probably stretching by the straining sound in his voice.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that was fun,” you said through a yawn.  “So what do you want to do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He yawned as well.  “I dunno, you wanna log off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not without seeing my dog!” you exclaimed.  A good excuse- you just didn’t want to say goodbye to him just yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both sat for a moment in silence as text kept scrolling down a dirt- patterned credits screen.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help your mind from running away from you.  What did he look like at this very moment, speaking to you through a discord call whilst playing Minecraft?  What did he look like stretching, or yawning, or sighing?  Was his hair messed up, were his clothes ruffled...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’ve got a question- what are you wearing right now?”  Once again, your tongue moved faster than your mind.  Within a second you regretted what you’d just said, cursing your curiosity for getting the better of you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, a t-shirt?  And pajama bottoms… why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, just curious.  I’m wearing the same thing.”  His answer just made you more inclined to want to see him- but that would be too much.  You’d already let your tongue slip one too many times tonight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed.  Giggled, perhaps, was a better word.  A sound that lit up your room and your eyes, making your heart melt with comfort.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing,” he said.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing I said!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me!” you demanded, sitting upright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, it’s just that… I’d bet you’re too chicken to turn your camera on right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart skipped a beat.  So he’d been thinking the same as you?  You quickly clicked open the camera app on your phone and switched it to selfie mode to examine how you looked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll turn it on if you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your hair was messy and matted, face rather puffy after having stared at a computer screen for hours.  Your oversized t-shirt was crumpled as well, but there was something a bit charming about how you looked after fixing your hair and shirt a bit.  Just put together enough to look presentable, but somehow endearing in your sleepy and ready-for-bed state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That and your overflowing desire to see George’s face gave you confidence- the dangerous kind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he murmured his response, you clicked the discord tab in front of the game.  Somehow you could feel the smirk in his voice, without even seeing him yet.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were nervous.  This was the first time someone would be seeing you in this sort of way on a zoom call.  Messy and, well, real.  But the fact that it was George made you feel both at ease, and incredibly anxious.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem nervous,” he said.  Could he feel your anxiety through the screen?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been tapping on your desk for the past minute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Embarrassment probably made your face more puffy, but you couldn’t be bothered to care at this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay okay, don’t be nervous.  It’s just me, it’s just for fun,” he said, and calmness immediately flooded over you.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed.  “You’re right, you're right.  I’m just being stupid- let’s do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, on three.  One…”  You hovered over the camera icon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two…”  You quickly twisted a strand of your hair with the other hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you clicked on the icon, suddenly a pop-up came up: ‘Allow Discord to use your camera?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You groaned.  “I forgot to allow camera!  I’m an idiot,” you said as you allowed it, but not before catching George’s smiling face that filled half of your discord screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, what an elaborate excuse for not turning it on,” George’s voice teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And on video, he was laughing.  Live.  His dimples and smile and eyes, just like on twitch- but just for you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second you allowed camera access, your face lit up the second half of the screen next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed at the sight- you and him, your faces on discord together, being idiots.  Your face was heating by the second, feeling watched by his warm gaze, as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him.  You were bright pink, although luckily your lighting helpt obscure it- and maybe it was just your imagination, but it looked like he was pink as well.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I like your LED lights,” you commented quickly trying to break the thick wall of tension.  He glanced behind him at the blue lights that framed his room as if reminding himself they were there, and you felt your blush deepen upon seeing his handsome side profile.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were being a total idiot, but at this point you were in too deep to save yourself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, thanks.  I like your…” he trailed off and you giggled uncontrollably, knowing there was nothing directly in your background for him to comment on.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My face?  How kind of you,” you said as sarcastically as you could, watching as he looked down and his face became slightly redder.  Something about him being just as uncomfortable as you was endlessly funny, not to mention comforting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you supposed to be used to a camera on you?”  You asked teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, but…” he trailed off again, annoying you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… this is different, I guess.  I wasn’t prepared.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bit your tongue from making a hair gel joke or something of that sort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” it was your turn to trail off.  You were quiet for a moment, looking intently at everything and anything in your room except from your computer screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he said softly, and you brought yourself to look at him.  His eyes were much less intimidating through a screen, but no less piercing.  You saw the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly, and be brought a finger to his lips in the most attractive way imaginable.  You were plastered to your seat, unable to move an inch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a soft chuckle as though he were about to say a joke, but didn’t.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, soft as a whisper, he asked, “Are you blushing?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Are You Blushing?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Blushing?!” you exclaimed.  “No, no, it’s just hot-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re totally blushing!”  The George from before was back- as he sat up in his chair and leaned forward a bit, his voice went back to light and joking.  And in response, your tone went back to normal, unclouded by embarrassment and fluster.  Well, not really- but at least you were able to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not, George!  It’s hot in here, and I’ve been stressing out over beating the bloody ender dragon for the last hour!”  You enunciated each syllable as if trying to convince yourself in addition to him of what you were saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George snickered, still looking up at the camera with his head tilted down sexily.  It drove you mad.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious, you’re just making this more awkward than it needs to be!” you scolded, and turned off your camera.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!  Wait, okay, I’m sorry.  Turn it back on, I won’t say anything-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please!”  He looked straight into the camera with puppy dog eyes, pouting his lips just slightly and raising his chin.  You were terribly thankful that he couldn’t see you as you melted pathetically at the adorable sight.  You were useless and infatuated, and there was no way in hell you could hide it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”  You clicked your camera back on, averting your eyes and trying to become as small as you could.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help smiling back.  You tried your best to read him, but the more you looked the more you blushed.  He must have gotten a haircut between now and the last time you saw him; the sides were neatly shaven but the top was still a fluffy mop under his headphones.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, here I am,” you said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup, and here I am.  Although I bet you’re used to that from seeing my streams.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t get so full of yourself!  I’ve only watched a couple,” you protested, but to your annoyance he just kept smirking that stupid smirk.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah right, right.  I can imagine you, sitting in your room, watching me play Minecraft live-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!”  You were actually getting frustrated now, especially with how stupidly and mockingly husky his voice had gotten.  He saw right through you, and he was playing with you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With my facecam on, talking to my friends…” George continued.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your point?  You trying to fan your ego or something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no.  I’m sorry, I’m being an arsehole.”  He paused.  “I just… I like seeing you flustered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You peered up at him curiously, his face now angled downwards so that you could barely trace his features.  The dim light of his blue LEDs and computer were soft and sultry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh?” was all you managed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… fuck, I’m being stupid.”  One moment George was bright pink, and the next his screen was black save for his discord profile picture.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!  Turn your camera back on,” you cried.  He’d been so embarrassed that he’d turned off his webcam?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?  Pussy,” you said, smirking.  “Flustered, are we?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up- I said something I shouldn’t’ve, okay?  Forget about it, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your gaze softened.  “Alright.  But… I want to talk.  Please, I want to see your face.”  You bit your lip gently.  “Please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard a sigh, and George’s face reilluminated the screen.  Delight sparkled in your eyes- something about his features matching his words made you feel at ease.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly, all of your feelings began bubbling to the surface.  The embarrassment, the nervousness, the desire… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wanted to talk.  You wanted to tell him.  You wanted to take a chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, can I… ask you something?”  You said tentatively.  The sharp voice in the back of your head remained; the slew of what-ifs and buts, the fears and anxieties.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure?”  Aas George shifted in his seat, you felt a calm wash over you.  Whether or not he felt the same… it’d be okay.  You knew it would.  After all, it was just a silly crush.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasn’t it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.  What am I to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked taken aback by the question, and rightfully so.  You didn’t even know what to expect as an answer, and even the moment it left your lips you were filled with doubts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, what do you mean?  A friend… I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded.  The way he bit his lip was terribly attractive.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George, would you like to be more than that?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you locked your gaze on the camera at the top of your computer screen instead.  As if peering into his soul, when in reality you were too cowardly to even sneak a glance.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to your surprise, he looked back at you- or, well, into the camera.  But it felt like he was looking right at you, even through you.  A chill went down your spine, but you were frozen to the spot as his lips parted to respond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His answer was nothing more than a whisper, a murmur that you quite easily could’ve missed if your volume wasn’t turned up obnoxiously loud.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d almost second guessed what you heard, believing for a moment that it was nothing more than a manifestation of you longing.  A fantasy dancing in your ears, a taunt sent by your evil, evil mind.  But no, it was real.  You’d heard it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But not before you stupidly let out a “hm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled, holding his head in his hands.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said yes,” he repeated, redness rising to his face much like heat rose to yours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” you practically breathed.  “Oh,” you said a bit louder, “Oh, wait- you’re serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly it was like all the tension had popped like a bubble.  Left with the awkwardness that remained in your palms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, smiling.  “Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, more than friends?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you asked, was it not?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were smiling stupidly, unable to comprehend that you hadn’t just been completely shut down.  That GeorgeNotFound had just accepted your proposal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea…” you trailed off, unsure of how to continue.  And as if on cue, your Minecraft tab that was still open suddenly lit up, and you yelped being blinded by the brightness of the overworld.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed, wholeheartedly laughed.  “Guess the credits are over!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I noticed!” you said, rubbing your eyes to adjust.  “I guess I can see my dog now!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You positioned your tabs so that you could still see George and your discord videos, but also play the game.  And as you ran over to find your house, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t glancing at his face every other millisecond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait- you can’t just change the subject like that!”  George complained.  He was also in-game but looked much less focused than you were.  Then again, the game was like second nature to him, wasn’t it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t really know how to… you know,” you admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How to what?  Ask me on a date?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You almost choked, caught off guard by his question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!  Um, well-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one that made the first move!”  George interjected.  “Isn’t that how this stuff works?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would I know?”  You asked incredulously.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one that- okay, nevermind.  I know nothing about this stuff either, probably less to be honest, so I really shouldn’t be talking.  But still, isn’t it kinda…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee!!” You exclaimed suddenly, tuning out whatever George was saying as you approached you minecraft dog that adorned a yellow collar.  As you hovered your mouse over it, the name ‘Coffee” appeared above.  You smiled, thinking of how the name had come about.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Kinda what?” you mused.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing,” he said, as he made his character crouch next to the dog.  You laughed, taking a screenshot.  You moved your gaze from the glasses-wearing avatar to his real face.  He was smiling softly at the lower half of the computer, and you couldn’t help feeling yourself slipping once again.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey George?”  You asked, and he hummed in response without moving his gaze.  “Will you go on a date with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George peered up, eyes sparkling and corners of his mouth lifting.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he said, grinning.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you sighed, a long, happy sigh.  For you were going on a date with that boy you’d met at a coffee shop all those weeks ago.  And you just couldn’t wait. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Minecraft Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OMG you guys, 100 kudos?! That's insane! Thank you so much, writing about George and London and just romance brings me so much joy, and it makes me indescribably happy that you guys care enough to let me know you enjoyed it.  </p><p>Just a head's up: I wanted to get this out tonight so I didn't really proofread, so pls forgive me if theres any errors.  Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was impossible to sleep that night.  You kept tossing and turning and thinking and thinking until finally you caved and pulled out your phone.  Almost immediately you pulled up twitter and scrolled down far enough to find GeorgeNotFound’s latest tweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss minecraft</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled.  He was so dumb.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sour future of a groggy morning awaited you in only a few hours, but you didn’t care.  You wanted to talk to him again, you wanted to listen to him at least.  You two had ended the call surprisingly easily after the whole date thing, not sharing any details of time or place or, well, even feelings.  The feelings kind of just hung in between you like an unsaid thing.  Crossing that threshold of ‘more than friends’, as vague as it was, said everything it needed to.  Hinting at something romantic perhaps, but more importantly, at something </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  At something exciting, new- something you’d be exploring together.  That was the best part of it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hugged the phone close to you as you checked to see if he was online on discord, but alas, he wasn’t.  So you settled for watching an old twitch vod, letting his laughter and soothing voice lull you to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After classes the next day, you were practically glued to your computer just waiting for him to get online.  You’d messaged him prior, but he was most likely either napping or avoiding you.  You entertained the latter for a while before eventually calming down your anxieties and being realistic.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And finally, at 6 pm, he was on. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Minecraft?’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Were you waiting for me to be online?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘...no..’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Log on, i’ll meet you in’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You flushed at him exposing you stalking him, but laughed it off as you logged into the game.  You joined the world he’d made as you accepted an incoming discord call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” George responded, his mic quality much better than yours as usual.  His voice sounded a bit groggier though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just wake up?” you asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, I recorded a bunch this morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” You bit your lip, wondering how to begin unpacking the night before.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… about last night,” you began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” he said casually.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You paused.  “Erm, well, do you have any ideas?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A date!” you huffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Was he chewing something?  You assumed so, his voice was muffled.  “Well, you’re the one that asked me, so technically that’s your job.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait- I mean you’re right, but really?”  You’d clearly gotten the idea that it’d be more of a discussed plan, but apparently not.  It'd been a while since you’d done the whole dating thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” he said through a mouthful.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you eating?” you asked, shifting the subject.  You’d figure out the date thing later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cereal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that your breakfast?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”  You were getting annoyed with his monotone one word answers.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn your camera on,” you said suddenly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn your camera on, I wanna see you.”  You did want to see him, but you also wanted to force him to be more expressive- one word answers just weren’t going to cut it.  Plus, you liked seeing him squirm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just rolled out of bed, cmon,” he protested.  You fixed your hair quickly, though you knew you looked pretty presentable already after having to be outside for the early portion of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care, turn it on!”  You clicked yours on, and flashed him a pleading smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted, but obliged.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s face, covered halfway by a cereal bowl appeared on your discord tab, and you grinned.  He was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and his hair was much messier than you’d ever seen in videos.  It was cute, the way it framed his face and swooped down over his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally, jeez.  Aren’t you the one that’s used to a facecam?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted again, eating a mouthful of cereal.  “Yeah, but not when I’ve just woken up,” he said while eating.  You looked away disgustedly as crumbs dotted his upper lip, and burst into laughter.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, I should probably get a snack too.  Gimme a sec,” you said, getting up and turning around without turning the camera off.  You made your way to the kitchen quickly, grabbing a granola bar and a water bottle, and sat back down.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that you knew your outfit was cute that day had absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do with your decision to stand up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so, Minecraft?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” he said through a mouthful, setting down the bowl to log in.  “Same world?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your snack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you even do after you beat the ender dragon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Whaddya mean?” you asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, we beat the game, what else is there to do?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave him a weird look.  “I mean, shouldn’t I be asking you that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged.  “I dunno, the fun bits over isn’t it?  Now there’s no goal, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, I have an idea.”  Your eyes lit up.  “Let's go on a Minecraft date!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked at you quizzically, looking so confused that you let out a laugh.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!  It’ll be fun,” you chirped, hitting him in-game to get his attention and running outside your house.  “Wait, can we ride those?” you asked, spotting a bunch of horses in the sunflower field.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You both took about 20 minutes finding a saddle after you insisted on taming a horse, and once you did you probably took an additional 20 minutes learning how to ride it.  But once you did, it was smooth sailing… almost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so where are we going then?”  George asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, somewhere pretty!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You took the lead on your white stallion, running through forests and plains all while ever so often glancing at George whose camera was still on.  Seeing him concentrated warmed your face, and you giggled whenever he caught your eye.  You made sure to not let the sparkles in his irises fade.  There was a nagging voice in your head, telling you that you were a bother to him.  That his time was better spent with someone else, doing anything else.  But the light that danced in his eyes told you otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As long as they stayed, you were reassured. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Flower Forest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your fingers were sore from pressing the W key and mouse.  You and your trusty Minecraft horse (that you’d affectionately named Bean) and George of course had been adventuring in a single direction for about half a virtual day.  In search of what, you were yet to figure out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Find ‘somewhere pretty’ yet?” George groaned lightly.  You laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be patient!  We’re almost there- probably.”  In truth, you had no clue if there even was a biome in the game that would be good enough for your Minecraft date.  But you’d run until you found one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” he asked again.  George’s webcam was still on, as was yours.  They were squished to the side of your computer screen to make room for the game, but you kept the corner of your eye on his smirk to make sure that it didn’t go away.  You’d been playing for a while, but not long enough to satisfy you.  He’d luckily let it slip that he didn’t have anything important to do with the rest of his day, so you intended to take full advantage of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were about to give him an answer when you bounded up a shallow hill- and there it was.  The place you'd been looking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You let out a gasp for effect, but you really were taken away by the game’s beauty.  Before you and George, and your horses, was a field bursting with flowers.  The sun was quickly rising to the east, painting the sky above with periwinkle and lavender.  But in the endless garden below was a rainbow: vibrant purples, bold reds and yellows, soft pinks.  A few birch trees were dotted here and there, and what you first thought were giant lemons but later learned were beehives under them.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, almost immediately, you looked at George.  He was smiling, and looking back at you.  You’d just begun to notice how dark it’d gotten in his room, and outside, although your lamp light kept your area illuminated.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” you said, turning your attention back at the game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haha, you picked my favorite biome,” George laughed.  "How'd you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait really? It is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep, I like flower forests.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You and your horse galloped right into the middle of the blooming fields to find a spot to stop- or at least you tried to.  You ended up falling in to a lake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, what’s the time on that?  Five whole seconds without falling into water- impressive,” George teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and help me!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily getting out was no problem with George’s help, although panicking from the fear of Bean drowning probably didn’t help.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And finally, after spending 10 minutes to figure out how to put a dang lead on your horse and tie it to a fence, you relaxed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You picked up a nearby flower- a cute red one, that matched the design on his shirt. Trying your best to look cute, you crouched next to him, looked up and dropped it at his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you,” you said, scrunching up your face as he picked it up and held it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, thank you!  Yellow, is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” you asked, confused.  “No, red.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry.”  He looked down sadly both in Minecraft, and in real life for extra drama.  Oh- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, George, you’re colourblind?” you asked innocently.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” he said, nodding in game. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Woah, really?  What color am I?” you grinned, interest immediately piqued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re blue.  I can see blue just fine, pink too mostly.  Just the other ones get a bit jumbled.” George explained.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah I see,” you said.  You’d had no idea, and honestly felt stupid for not figuring it out before.  He must have had a video or post about it somewhere… you just hadn’t seen it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately ran to the nearest pink flower that you could find, and offered it to him instead.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, pink!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, thank you,” he said.  He sounded genuinely touched, and so were you by the way he beamed ear to ear.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fascinating, really, how a simple gesture in a video game could fill both your hearts to the brim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wandered around for a while, George on your tail, picking up pretty-looking flowers and asking George to tell what color they looked like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, you might have learned the hard way that bees don't like to be tapped- after a lot of scolding on George's end.  And a lot of screaming on yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But after all that, when the sun was beginning to lower and you made your way to where the sandy shore met the field of flowers, you were ready for your Minecraft date.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Here!  Date time.  First, </span>
  <span>George, turn off your camera," you told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he asked, giving you puppy dog eyes through the screen.  “You don’t want to see my face?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help melting at that.  “No, no- god, stop looking at me like that!"  You shook your head.  "I just want a fully Minecraft experience, ya know?  No faces." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made an O shape with his mouth as you both turned off your cameras, leaving you with just your profile pictures floating in a dark gray discord call.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Monsieur Not Found, come this way,” you announced in a faux french accent.  George giggled, and somehow the sound felt more lively reaching your ears than with cameras on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what is this,” he sighed, following you.  You led him to the seashore, and placed down a block of wooden planks between you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush- just a moment!” you scolded, not dropping the french accent.  You hastily made your way over to his side, and placed a stair block facing the planks, then did the same on your side.  You stepped back, revealing the ‘table and chairs’ that you’d just proudly created. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok, fine- it sort of looked like a lowercase W- but if you ignored that and used your imagination, it worked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see- how lovely of you to treat me to dinner, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Madame,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” George responded, the last word said in a French accent.  The huskiness to his tone sent sparkling shivers down your spine, and you felt heat rise to your face as you chuckled lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, sit down,” you ordered and he crouched in the seat, same as you.  You pulled out a steak from your inventory and dropped it down on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, my hunger bar is full,” George said bashfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… that’s awkward, now isn’t it,” you laughed.  “More for me.”  You insatiably right-clicked to eat the rest of the ‘meal’ you’d prepared, which in reality had just been 2 steaks and some bread. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, wait, that’s all I had planned,” you admitted.  “What’re you even supposed to do on dates?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know,” George mumbled.  There was a touch of sadness to his tone, and you felt the energy shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey George, can I ask you something?”  You didn’t wait for a response- somehow in the absence of seeing each other’s faces, your confidence had risen.  “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed startled by the question, shifting a bit in his seat.  “Yeah, I have,” he said finally.  You could tell he was telling the truth… but why be reluctant to share it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  You tried not to sound disappointed- you weren’t, obviously, but sometimes a quiver in your voice could betray you.  Luckily it didn’t.  “Just one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, two.  Well, erm, I guess one technically, but, like, 2 relationships I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You thought for a moment.  “So you weren’t, like, labeled?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, exactly.  It’s not important anyway, didn’t last more than a month.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the other?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing too serious either… just some uni girl.”  Something in his voice told you he was lying.  It must have been at least a little bit serious, if not more.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I see.”  You paused.  “Y’know, George, you could have anyone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gulped, sort of regretting your statement.  “I mean, you know that you could have any girl you wanted, right?  In the world.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah, don’t make me laugh,” George said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m serious!  Tell me you’ve been on twitter, like, once.  You know it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, that?  Oh, that’s not… I dunno.  That’s not… real.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You considered that for a moment.  “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” George hesitated.  “I mean, they like GeorgeNotFound.  Like, the YouTuber, the ‘celebrity’ even- but, it’s weird to like someone that you don’t really know, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”  It hurt you to admit, but you’d found yourself falling for his persona the more that you watched his vods and videos.  It took moments like these to remind yourself that he was different with the camera off.  That he was real like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then, if all that stuff isn’t real to you, then what is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t expecting it, but suddenly your gaze turned to the left of your computer screen where George had just turned his camera on.  His smile was faint but his eyes were shining, and his room was pretty much swallowed in darkness.  The only light that bounced off his features was from the computer screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Their Kind of Friendship</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I miss George &lt;3 ah well, at least we have fictional george </p><p>but like still can he stream pls</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>If all this stuff isn’t real to you, then what is?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You had to remind yourself to breathe in the shower when replaying last night’s conversation in your mind.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that line you’d been a sputtering mess the rest of the night- going on about how much his fans loved him and how great it was to be admired by so many people around the world.  But all the while he looked at you (your camera turned on at this point) with a certain look in his eyes that haunted you all through the night and into the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dreamy- no.  Aloof- nah.  Sleepy- probably, but there was something else to it.  Something that sent the best kinds of shivers down your spine as your mind’s eye replicated it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you shooed off the memories as you made your way to your desk for morning classes.  Before they started, though, you gave George a call.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You awake?” you greeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”  There it was again- the strange layer to his words that appeared yesterday when he said ‘this is’ and goodnight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve been up since 5 yesterday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More or less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re sleeping… when?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever I get sleepy,” he said, yawning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound sleepy.  You should go to bed,” you hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not my mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d sure hope not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing,” you sang.  For starters, it’d be beyond weird for a mum to have the thoughts you did about George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have school?” George asked.  You were flattered that he even considered that for you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, actually- starting in a few minutes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George yawned again, making you yawn as well.  “Call me later, yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said groggily.  “Wait- when else are you free besides 6-8?  I’ve got recording stuff with the boys I think.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m free pretty much the rest of the night.  I can get all my stuff done before then.”  That wasn’t quite true but… if you had to work your schedule around George’s, then so be it.  Even if you thought it was idiotic to warp your sleep schedule around that of two Americans.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But luckily, an idea occurred to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, can I listen in?  Like, while you record?”  You were pretty sure he was going to say no, but it was worth a shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  You want to… listen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!  It’ll be interesting, I won’t get in your way or anything.  I’ll be on deafen or whatever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” George clearly seemed uncomfortable, but you were too persistent to let go now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll ask them.  I’ll text you, kay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!  Thank you,” you cheered.  You couldn’t tell if you were excited as George’s friend or as a fan, but regardless getting to hear a recording session with the Dream Team seemed like a blast.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And… it wasn’t.  A recording session, that is.  But it was indeed a blast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as you hopped online after classes, you were greeted by an invite to a server.  4 members, 3 online.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Manhunt</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You accepted and tentative typed a hello in the general chat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice call had 3 people in it, but the only ones you knew were Dream and George.  Or at least you recognized them from their profile pictures: their nicknames were enough to get a giggle out of you.  Dream’s was ‘bitchass 1’, George’s was ‘bitchass 2’ and the last one was just ‘bitch’.  So this was their kind of friendship.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hi join vc</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ George had messaged below your greeting.  You smiled and joined, your cheap headphones filled with the laughs of 3 voices.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” you squeaked, scared that they might have been in the middle of recording.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” George said, the familiarity of his voice immediately calming your nerves.  He was much more energetic than any other time you’d spoken to him, and he immediately introduced him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know her, George!” you heard Dream say as his icon lit up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, nice to meet you,” said the other voice- that you immediately identified as Sapnap from all their videos.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hi, um, Sapnap?” you said tentatively.  It felt weird saying the name out loud.  He chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, what, had George not told you about me?”  His mic was a bit soft so you turned it up on discord.  “He’s told me all about you!”  He said teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such an idiot,” George huffed as you and Dream laughed.  This was so weird- but somehow you were doing okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what’s he told you?” you asked, both out of genuine curiosity and also to spite George a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh all kinds of stuff!  Like how pretty-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna mute you!”  George threatened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not even admin!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, dumbass!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay shut up both of you!” Dream interjected.  “Just cus this is the first time George has talked to a girl in literal years doesn’t mean-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I swear to god-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your sides hurt from laughing at their back and forth that went on for probably longer than it should have.  By the time they brought up each other’s mums you practically felt as comfortable as you would’ve if you’d known them for years.  Their energy- it was contagious.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, we, like, actually have to test this thing,” George finally said.  “If you want,” he said to you, “you can join the world and test the program with us.  I’ll send the IP.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, isn’t this being recorded?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, not today.  We still have some more kinks to work out- stop laughing Sapnap- so we’ll just test it for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!  Cool!  So I can talk then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed.  “If you can handle talking to us for more than 5 minutes, sure thing.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Princess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hehe, George finally streamed.  Its a good day- or night, ig, when im upoloading this.  If you haven't noticed my posting schedule is, like, pretty random, but i've been trying to upload at least every couple of days if not every other day.  It depends when I get the writing bug after all, I don't wanna give you guys something shitty to read! &lt;3 i appreciate you guys sm, remember you are loved</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As soon as you joined the Minecraft world, you were surrounded by zombies.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-” you could barely punch before you were killed by at least 5 of them swarming you.  “What just happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed as you respawned, immediately dying again.  The third time you noticed that he was flying above you in creative mode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, give me creative mode too!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re our guinea pig,” George chuckled, as you died again.  Thankfully he took pity on you and switched your gamemode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… so Dream, we’ve gotta lower the spawn rate by, like, a lot” he said to his bright green friend who was also flying around.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah- I’ll adjust how fast it spawns them in at first too.  Like, it should ease in more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you guys talking about?”  You were beyond confused, looking down at the now hundreds of zombies that covered the forest you’d spawned in.  They weren’t burning despite some being in direct sunlight.  “How are they not dying?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the new video!” Sapnap began explaining.  “It’s, like, a zombie apocalypse kinda thing.  George can explain it better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the idea is to make zombies a lot stronger, plus make them able to spawn in the sun.  And instead of beating the game, we have to just survive, for like, 30 minutes I think.  Or an hour- we still have to work out the details.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That actually sounds pretty cool!” you chirped.  George and Dream kept going back and forth about details and logistics, and a bunch of complicated coding stuff that you couldn’t even begin to understand.  Sapnap chimed in every so often to add an idea or help them solve a problem, all whilst you helped test stuff like the amount of damage they did and if it was even possible to break blocks with them all attacking you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, maybe we should set a cap on the spawn amount,” Dream suggested.  “What, like, 100 per chunk?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Per chunk?!  That’s insane- no, do like 50,” George responded.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you were being honest, you felt a bit useless during the whole process.  But that didn’t bother you.  You listened to George problem-solve and tinker with the program, his determination rising along with the level of concentration in his voice.  Whenever he figured something out, he’d get all excited and his voice would instantly become bubbly.  It was contagious, and even though you didn’t understand why half the ideas he proposed would warrant such a mood change, you were endlessly happy to hear him joyful.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whenever Sapnap or Dream cracked a joke, his giggles would light up your entire room.  And whenever you said something that made him laugh… it was like you were hopping on clouds.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And finally, after about an hour, it was time to test it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, ready?  I’m gonna run it,” Dream said.  You were in survival mode, with nothing in your inventory, huddled in a circle with George, Sapnap and Dream.  “Go!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the word left his mouth zombies began spawning in every direction.  Thankfully they weren’t a horde like the first time it’d ran, giving you enough time to chop down a tree.  And shamefully by the time you gathered all of the wood from it, the team had already made a crafting bench and wooden pickaxes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” George said to you, tossing you one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks!  Behind you, George!” you called, just in time as he swung a wooden axe to kill the attacking zombie.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream and Sapnap were already in a cave- it was like they were moving at lightspeed compared to you.  But George handing you full tools got you all caught up, not to mention insanely flattered by the gesture.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the while you were constantly pursued by zombies, and you began letting yourself ease into the ‘damsel in distress’ role more than you usually would’ve.  You let George compensate for your lack of swordsmanship, allowing him to protect you and guard you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And although it was stupid, every time he slayed a mob that was attacking you, it made your cheeks warm the tiniest bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My knight in shining armour,” you teased, and he chuckled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that make you?  The helpless princess?” George joked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”  You were okay being a princess, if it meant you were his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>princess</span>
  </em>
  <span>, throw me some food,” Sapnap called sarcastically.  That got a chuckle out of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rhythmic banter that continued throughout the challenge became music to your ears, and you only realized after your cheeks were sore how much you’d been smiling.  It was nice.  It was… easy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But of course your attention was focused 90% on George.  At times you found yourself wishing you could see his face, when he was dying from laughter at something Dream said for example.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George it wasn’t even that funny!”  Dream had said, trying to calm him down.  But he just kept laughing, his high-pitched giggling morphing into breathy wheezes that quickly became scary sounding cackles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You found yourself not able to stop laughing at his laugh, and Dream’s wheezing in the background certainly didn’t help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… I’m sorry… I can’t… stop….” George managed between laughter, only making you laugh harder.  You had to physically take your headphones off so that you wouldn’t blow out your poor earbuds’ microphone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as you were nearing the end of the challenge, George’s laughter kept ringing in your ears.  You were pretty sure it was the closest sound in existence to pure happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we’re gonna do it!” Dream cheered.  “And none of us died!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey big man, don’t get too cocky- this is only the 30 minute test run,” Sapnap reminded him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That felt like wayyy longer than 30 minutes,” George said, and you agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Final 5 seconds- 5, 4, 3, 2-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One!” you all said together, cheering.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay, it works!  Now we can finally record this thing,” Dream said.  “First we gotta figure out who’s channel it’s going up on- one of you can have it, I just uploaded last week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George can, I have that other one remember?”  Sapnap said.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, sure,” George said.  “Gonna take me forever to edit though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we know,” Dream laughed.  “Anyway, I’ve got a thing to get done- I’ll talk to you guys later, yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye,” George and Sapnap both said in unison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to talk to you again,” he said to you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah!  Nice to talk to you too,” you said back, caught off guard.  Dream’s genuineness never failed to amaze you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he left, you checked the time and realized with a shock that it was almost 9:00 pm.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit- I’ve got to do homework,” you exclaimed.  “This was really fun, thank you guys for letting me tag along!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Sapnap said.  “Anything for George’s friend- it was nice meeting you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice meeting you too!  I’ll talk to you later George, kay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure!” George responded.  You left the call, but right before you could’ve sworn you’d heard a flirty whistle from Sapnap.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You chuckled to yourself.  What a day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slipped off your earbuds, the faint echo of George’s laugh still ringing in your ears.  You wanted to hear it again- over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest, you didn’t really know much of what to expect from the future.  All you knew was that if you got to hear George laugh like that again, it was bright. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Coming and Going</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>And then it was the next day, a bus-call with George whilst he deafened his friends on discord.  Later, he was busy so you played iMessage games with him (and painfully lost at archery).  You called him again, around midnight, and talked about his recording-filled day.  He groaned about having to stream soon, and you encouraged him to do it tomorrow since his fans miss him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna lose all your simps- I mean fans!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God I hate you,” George laughed.  “Fine, fine, you convinced me.  What should I stream though, it’s been forever since I’ve been on the SMP.”</span>
</p><p><span>“All the more reason why you should go on it- didn’t your house get destroyed?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“What?” You heard him sit up from his bed.  “How could you possibly know that?” </span></p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, twitter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you know more about what’s going on in my server than I do,” he mused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I get bored- plus, it’s barely your server.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, who started it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You huffed.  “You- but come on, you haven’t seen the millions of mentions telling you to check the smp?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you have?” he scoffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shifted the subject.  “That reminds me, give me your twitter handle so I can follow you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure- wait, that’s public though, right?  Who you follow?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah.  You’re right- it’d be pretty suspicious if I suddenly started following a random british girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Random, huh?” you teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Random to them, I mean.  You know how twitter is.”  You did, in fact- but you probably could never fear twitter the way someone in a position like George did.  One wrong move and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it, I don’t really post much of anything,” you said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, still give me your handle- I can look without interacting, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, like, why?”  Interesting, that he wanted to see your account so badly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to see what you post, that’s all!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all?!  Possessive much…” you chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like that!” George stammered.  “I’m just, like, curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You understood him.  And it wasn’t like you’d combed through every piece of text he’d written on the internet- it was only right of him to have at least some idea what kind of online persona you had.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine.  But no stalking, okay?”  You gave him your handle with a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, promise,” he snickered.  You yawned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired?” he asked, gently.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you admitted, twisting your sore wrist after holding your phone uncomfortably in bed.  “But I don’t wanna hang up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, you should probably get some rest.  I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heart exploded with warmth, and your eyes fluttered shut as you smiled deeply.  His words touched you, the same way you’d feel if he wrapped you in a warm hug.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” you said gratefully.  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.  Goodnight!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except you didn’t go to bed- no, you filled your brain with more and more videos and streams with George in it than you ever thought possible.  You found out lots about him: like that 90% of his fanbase shipped him with his best friend.  First searching up “dreamnotfound” had sent you into a frenzy, actually convinced it was real.  Luckily another google search confirmed otherwise, and you laughed at your own idiocy.  He’d confirmed he was straight after all, and you were glad he did so because  otherwise you’d probably be convinced he was actually dating Dream.  The amount of jokes they made themselves was rather suspicious, from an outsider’s perspective.  You found it all charmingly hilarious.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More so, it made your admiration for their friendship grow.  Not just with Dream, even; with Sapnap, and Badboyhalo, and two men you later learned to be called Quackity and Karl Jacobs.  They all began to stream together often, and when George was with them you saw a side to him that you usually didn’t see.  You were grateful for that, the fact that you had the opportunity to gauge just how much his friends brought out of him.  It was being broadcasted to thousands, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You fell asleep that night next to your laptop, head swarming and swirling and eventually calming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, it was another day.  Another call in the morning, and more Minecraft playing in the afternoon.  It was only for two hours, and Sapnap joined in to make as many comments as he could before dragging George away to stream with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following day it was George’s turn to stream, and despite missing his daily conversations which you’d become used to, hearing his voice thank donations and talk to chat was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the weekend slowly came and went, your longest call with George going up to six hours, you began wondering if maybe you’d become a bit too attached to him.  I mean, you hadn’t even gone on a real date yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit- the date!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  You sat up in your bed on a Monday night, suddenly realizing that you’d completely forgotten about planning it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You’re the one that asked me, so technically that’s your job,’ George had said to you.  Gosh, that seemed like ages ago- it was 2 weeks ago at the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slapped your forehead, before opening up your laptop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, as ideas began forming in your head and organizing themselves into a plan, your anxiety retreated.  It was replaced with excitement, brimming in your eyes and heart.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d never liked setting your expectations high with stuff like this, but with all the magical activities that you began planning your imagination was certainly alive.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>November 18th.  That was the date you’d chosen for your, well, date.  You’d given George a call at around 1am that night to let him know, knowing he’d still be awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno if I’m free but… I’ll make myself free,” he’d said, and you fell asleep with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>WHO ELSE IS FREAKING OUT ABOUT THE MEETUP?? cus i know i amm<br/>We get outside George content?? sign me up.<br/>Also there mightttt be a few similarities in these next few chapters- but just know that I wrote them all before the meetup and it wasn't really intentional.  But whatever, doesn't matter much to me.  If this is confusing don't worry, it'll make sense after i post em.<br/>Love you! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. A Walk Along the Thames</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay so before we get into this chapter: I just wanna note that I'm not really lining this story up to actual streams and important stuff, mostly cus that takes a lotta work and planning. So yeah, I skipped over George's birthday mostly because I just forgot- I might try to make it more fun by mentioning specific streams/events but if I don't pls forgive me!</p><p>Anyways enjoy this chapter my loves!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was cloudy- well, it was London.  Obviously it was cloudy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fabric of your dress danced around your calves as the wind blew it a kiss, and the chill it gave you made you glad you wore a jean jacket over it.  November was cool, but not too cold.  It was… crisp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You clutched the same handbag you’d worn when you first met George, pulling out your phone.  It was 11 past 4- 11 minutes later than the time you’d agreed to meet.  Of course, you weren’t anxious- but your hands certainly were, finding the nearest object to fiddle with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tree branches rustled above you, between lamp posts lining the sidewalk.  You stood between a busy street and endlessly noisy cars and a barrier that came up to around your waist.  It overlooked the Thames river, and although it was dark gray and lazily resting it was still a pretty sight.  Despite not being able to see the bridge from your position, the buildings across and boats that dotted the water made the whole scene quite picturesque. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You bit your bottom lip, thinking through the plan to make sure you had it right.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’ll be fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you told yourself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the second you saw George emerge from a black taxi, your nerves were aflutter again.  You walked towards him as he shut the door, smiling as he spotted you from a few meters away.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” you greeted, somewhat awkwardly shuffling in place next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he responded, tugging at his navy scarf.  He looked much more fashionable this time- a beige overcoat and rather stylish caramel shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled looking over his outfit, and more so, him.  You hadn’t seen George beyond a discord call in almost a month.  Even so, you’d never felt like he was any different- that is, until now.  Seeing him before you, with his hair picking up soft hints of umber that you’d never quite seen before, his skin so soft that you wanted more than anything to reach out and touch it- you realized what you’d been missing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are you going to reveal the plan now?” he asked slyly, the corners of his soft lips turning upwards.  His voice was softer in person, and there was a quality to it that didn’t quite come through on discord.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” you answered, taking him by his gloved hand before you could hesitate.  You led him towards the barrier that overlooked the river, and then you began walking right along it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, alright- what’s the rush?” He asked as you dragged him along mercilessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” you loosened your grip.  “I’m just excited!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George giggled, the sparkle in his eye matching yours.  “Okay, fine.”  You walked at a pretty decent speed, not slow but not too fast.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite holding his hand, you were still quite far from each other.  You wondered if you should let go, perhaps you’d been too aggressive.  But George didn’t release your hand, and that was all the reassurance you needed to continue.  Plus, it was warm.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wore gloves?” you asked, teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why?” George questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?  Yes it is!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not even winter,” you argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just wait until it gets later- you’ll be begging me for my jacket,” George huffed, and you both immediately blushed in embarrassment.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Begging for his jacket didn’t seem like a terrible idea. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “You’ve probably been here millions of times.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course- but not in a while,” he admitted, and smiled at you.  “It’s… nostalgic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d tried to pick a place that’d be a conversation starter- and where better than the Thames river.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I used to come around here to see my sister,” he said.  “She had a flat nearby- had a great view.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you have a sister?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dipped his head yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Older, I assume?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, 8 years.” he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.  Do you visit her often?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Occasionally, she lives up north with her husband now, she drives down here every so often.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s nice,” you cooed.  “Do they have kids?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, two dogs though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any pets, George?” you asked.  You’d seen somewhere on twitter that he had a cat, but wanted to ask him personally.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, actually.  Well, they’re technically my parents, I guess, but we have a dog and a kitten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, I’d love to meet them!” you bubbled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled.  “Sure, when you come over you can see them.”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He’d said when, not if. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always wanted a pet, they just seem like… a lot, ya know?  To take care of.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, not at all.  At least in my experience, I mean.  My old cat, Luca, was so low maintenance that sometimes I forgot he was there,” he laughed.  “He was lovely, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a reminiscing look in his eye, that matched the sparkles in the river.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You squeezed his hand slightly, and he smiled as though just remembering you were holding it.  You let out a soft sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, George, I like you better in person,” you said suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hold your hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George giggled, and blushed slightly.  “That it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno…” you thought for a moment.  “It’s just nice, I guess.  Like, when we’re talking out loud, face to face… it feels… real.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Real,” George repeated, but then frowned slightly.  “I suppose you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something wrong?” you asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, just… it’s strange, somehow, that most of my friends are only through the internet.  Most of them I’ve never met, yet they still mean so much to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You felt your stomach turn a bit, but then he continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But when I’m with you, it feels… different.  You’re right, it feels real.  But also… it feels more, like…”  George stopped, and you stopped with him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You looked up at him, his eyes saying something you couldn’t quite catch.  The river below you and the leaves above you swayed, and you found yourself resting in a place you couldn’t perceive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” you asked gently.  George looked down, then back up at you.  His gaze sent welcome shivers down your spine, and he gently grasped your other hand in his.  Perhaps you were just imagining it, but you felt his face grow a bit closer to yours and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating.  Everything was slow, and soft, and nice.  And… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Intimate,” George finished.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Across From You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>THE WILBUR GEORGE TOMMY MEETUP!!!! i know its probably old news by now, but George is just so pretty... I may or may not be taking notes for future chapters....</p><p>Anyways, enjoy this chapter! I've been slowly trying to inch each chapter up by a couple hundred words, to make them feel more satisfying.  I try not to be too picky about the length, but I feel like sometimes if they're too short it can feel unfinished. </p><p>Thank you for all the compliments, they make my day every single time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Your heartbeat was in your ears, and you sensed it coming before anything George did implied it.  Your lips tingled ever so slightly, and you gaze quickly fluttered down to George’s shoes.  Both of your hands were still cupped in his, ever so gently, and you felt yourself run your own fingers up his forearm softly.  It was barely a movement, but it created shivers on both of your skins.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Intimate.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  The word he’d said rang in your ears, and set something inside of you ablaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could feel the slight raise of the hairs on his forearms, and you gently rested your hand on the underside of his arm.  Whist doing so you both swayed ever so closer, without even knowing it.  Pulled by an invisible string. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, after a moment, you were close enough to feel the heat of his cheeks radiate and warm your own.  You were close enough to feel his breath on the exposed stretch of skin along your collarbone, making your grip his forearm tighter ever so slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You could practically feel how soft his lips were, your eyes unabashedly devouring their appearance.  You felt your own part, just a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, you hesitated.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something hesitant, and uneasy, welled up in your stomach, and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait.”  You looked up into George’s tender eyes as the word left your mouth, and you saw them immediately clouding and recoiling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips parted the slightest amount, and he barely whispered, “Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately felt guilty, making sure not to lessen your grip on his arm and hand.  You knew his head was probably swarming at the moment and you felt terrible.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as though he was a scared cat retreating- </span>
  <em>
    <span>insert catboy jokes</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no-” you giggled, catching him off guard.  Then you tugged on the collar of his jacket, leaning up and forward right to his ear.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Save it for sunset,” you practically whispered, then backed down immediately and walked past him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were filled with satisfaction at how his face reddened, and dragged him along with you as you turned.  He stumbled a bit and you chuckled.  You knew you were just as embarrassed as he was, but luckily you were able to conceal your blush by laughing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, you hoped so.  If your night went according to plan, there’d be plenty of time later for awkwardness-dripping flirtatious contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun began to tentatively peek out through the clouds, just as the sky began to warm in color.  Auras of peach and pink found themselves nested in bits of fluffy white, as you pointed out to him in a brief comment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is pretty,” he responded, looking up at the sky with you as you tugged him along forward.  “I don’t see sunsets often- well, I don’t go outside often, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You silently wished you’d allowed time for you both to watch the sun go down.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah well, can’t have everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled at him as he looked up, admiring the way his eyes softly sparkled in calm observation.  You sure wished you could give him anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The breeze that swayed the leaves above began to leave a chill on your skin, cooled by the slow river to George’s left.  You walked and talked for about twenty minutes, checking your phone every so often to make sure you hadn’t passed your destination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re almost there,” you reassured him, passing another identical lamppost.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that ten minutes ago!” George complained.  He fake pouted like a toddler and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t warm your heart.  Okay, fine- more like boil it alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know but really- I think it's around that corner,” you pointed up ahead of you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna tell-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be patient!” you scolded him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after another block of bickering,  you both arrived at the front of a tiny pizzeria. It had cute Italian-esque windows that oozed with warmth from the inside, set with flower boxes that you found adorable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t look like much compared to all the luscious places you’d passed on the way, but it had a quaint, family owned vibe that you adored.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, to George it probably looked pathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here!” you cheered, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your restaurant choice.  “Sorry, it doesn’t seem all that great of a pick now that I think about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no- I love pizza,” George said grinning, and you felt relieved.  “Lets go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as entered, it was as though you were swept into a world of warmth and liveliness.  A kind-eyed waitress greeted you and led you to a cozy booth around the back of the restaurant.  You were seated and given time to ponder the menu, and it was then when it first occurred to you that this was really a date.  Like, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date</span>
  </em>
  <span> date.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You basked in each other's silence for a minute, stealing as many glances up at him as you could while trying not to get caught.  George’s features and expression were so soft as he read the menu, his eyelashes on full display with his gaze directed downwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you were presented with water glasses and you began to take a sip, George unwound his scarf from his neck and laid it on the table next to him.  The low-ish cut of his sweater and open jacket revealed his neck, making you blush slightly and almost choke on your water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You coughed, wiping the water from your mouth with the back of your hand as George laughed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, how gentlemanly,” you chided, and he chuckled more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before long, the waitress from before came up to your booth again, cheerily asking for your drink orders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm,” you looked hesitantly at George.  “Do you drink, George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Occasionally- I’ll get whatever you get.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great, more pressure, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, what would you recommend?” you asked tentatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress gave you her wine recommendation for the night, and you agreed after quickly asking George if that was alright.  You were in the mood for some sweet-tasting wine anyway, perhaps it’d dull down your anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back in a bit for your orders!” she said leaving the table.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gave George a side smile, which he returned.  Once you decided on an order, you were able to relax a bit and took off your jacket.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t been very talkative, since…” George trailed off.  You knew that he was talking about that moment before, the “almost-kiss” as you’d deemed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could say the same to you,” you countered.  You each stared, practically glared, at each for a moment.  It was a calm and over-dramatically tense stalemate, before you both dissolved into giggles after just a second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay- I’m getting bored of this stupid shit,” you laughed.  You gestured to show you were talking about the tension between you.   “Let’s just be normal, kay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine by me, I wasn’t the one being not-normal,” George chuckled.  You were about to refute but then he started taking off his gloves.  He gently laid them by his scarf on the table, revealing his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And once again your desires betrayed you, examining his long slender fingers and soft skin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You couldn’t help yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reached your own hand forward, letting it rest gently on top of his.  He looked up at you, chocolate eyes gleaming with the reflections of all the lights that danced behind you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he looked down at his lap, lips curling into a smile.  Short tufts of his hair obscured his eyes, and you could just barely see his jaw tighten a bit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly and slowly, he curled his fingers under your palm and lifted them to interlock your fingers.  You held your breath, both of you tightening your grip ever so slightly so that they fit perfectly in each other.  As if they were meant to be there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled at him softly, practically beaming on the inside but trying to play it off as casual.  Obviously you’d held hands with other people, even romantically- but this was so different.  It was as though by interlocking George’s fingers with your own, the barrier between you was severed.  The wall built by the lack of intimacy of a discord call and the limited interaction of a video game... it was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were together, now.  On a date, a real, </span>
  <em>
    <span>official </span>
  </em>
  <span>date.  With George.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, tell me about your stream the other day,” you said, resting your chin on your other hand that was propped up on the table.  You looked into his eyes, trying to fill them with all the curiosity and amazement you felt inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” he said, probably spaced out a bit.  You couldn’t complain, you were practically floating in space this entire time.  “Which one, Tuesday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” you hummed, not hearing the question.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it was nice,” he said.  His gaze danced all over the place as he began speaking and thinking and explaining, but yours never left him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You got warm chills whenever his eyes met yours, and you realized at that very moment that you could stare into them forever and never get bored.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you wanted that more than anything. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Hi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!! Before we jump in- sorry for not updating in a bit, time got away from me. I've been trying to make the chapters longer and edit them before posting, so they're higher quality.  Unfortunately It takes a bit more time than just word-vomiting and posting, but hopefully it shows.  </p><p>Anywaysss I can't thank you guys enough for the support, this fanfic is so much fun for me to write.  If you can't tell I'm a huge gogy simp myself, so this is rather self-indulgent. </p><p>Also, I might start adding this on future chapters: I pretty much looped the song False God by Taylor Swift while writing this, in case you wanna give it a listen. <br/>Honestly I've been pretty inspired by Taylor's music writing this up till now, mostly the songs False God, Invisible Strings and London Boy (for obvious reasons).  Give them a listen, they're really good.  But don't worry- this whole story won't be all happy bubbly sunshine, there's more interesting stuff to come.  :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You were still laughing by the time you licked your fingers of sauce from the last pizza slice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, okay, so she had no clue who Karl was </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” George laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you made him say… that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George exploded into laughter.  “Hey he agreed!  He was the one that wanted to go on Omegle, we just gave him ideas!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still!” you giggled at the raunchy story George had just told you, involving Karl Jacobs and a random girl he’d matched with on the site.  “Imagine you’re a random girl and some guy just says that-” You burst into laughter.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!  Anyone that’s on Omegle knows that's </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the worst thing that you could experience,” George defended himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, touché,” you said, taking another sip of your wine.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus, for the record,” he continued, “it was Dream and Quackity’s idea, not mine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d talked endlessly during your rather filling meal about his friends, mostly Dream and Sapnap whom you’d already met and also two others, Quackity (which he’d assured you wasn’t his real name) and Karl Jacobs.  You had conflicting feelings about now knowing all of their most embarrassing stories, at least the ones they’d shared with George.  But seeing his face light up when talking about the people most important to him gave you infinite ausement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “One second, lemme use the restroom,” you said after a bit more conversation, stepping out of your booth with your purse in hand.  You glanced back over your shoulder at George, making sure he wasn’t watching as you intercepted your waitress who was about to approach your table.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” you said to her, shuffling for your credit card.  “I’ll pay for my table, no need to take the check there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright,” the waitress said, a bit surprised, but accepted your card anyway.  “Just sign here…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time you finished using the bathroom and got your card returned to you on the way out, George had put his scarf back on and pocketed his gloves.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You approached the booth and slid in to meet his sparkling eyes.  They always mesmerized you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lets go,” you said, grabbing your coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what about the check?” he asked, and you smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Covered it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” George exclaimed, getting up.  “No, wait, let me split it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope!” you grinned.  “My date, my responsibility.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, I-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you can’t be paid for.”  That sure shut his mouth, and the thankful look on his face was all you needed to make up for paying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You left the warmth of the restaurant and were greeted by a rather harsh wind chill, and an inky black sky.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, it sure got dark quickly!” you exclaimed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled.  “No, time just got away from us.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully the lamplight was just enough to light up his features as you turned towards each other, grinning.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what now?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You immediately reached for his hand, clasping it in your own and pulling him forward with you.  “You’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You walked further up the Thames together, in the same direction and path as you had before.  As you grew more distant from the bustling tourist-filled areas, the paths became a bit more rustic and charming.  More secluded, more </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimate</span>
  </em>
  <span> as George had put it earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, have I done a good job planning so far?” you asked tentatively, peering at the almost black-looking river to your left.  There were a few stars above that defied the city lights behind and around you, and they reflected onto the water below.  It was a calm, pristine sight you thought.  The wind made it chilly and the wine in your system made it dreamy, so you were in a constant tug-of-war between reality and fantasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” George hummed, his gaze following the passing cars and shops.  Both of you had chatted your hearts out, and it was almost as though you had a silent mutual understanding that just being close to one another would serve the same purpose as a conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time walking was much different than before.  You were strolling for the sake of it, not for a destination.  Although, you did have an end destination in mind.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the harmonious synchronization of your footsteps was enough to render any and all of your plans obsolete. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” George murmured, “I’m surprised Dream hasn’t texted me this whole time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You chuckled.  “Did you tell him about… this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, sort of,” George admitted.  “I said I was going somewhere with you… I didn’t really give any details.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  You weren’t hurt, just surprised.  “I had the impression you told each other everything,” you teased.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean, I guess I pretty much do.  I just… it's different, stuff like this.  Feelings and stuff.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, relationships.  I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see.  So he’s never been with anybody?” you asked.  “Or, at least since you’ve met?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?  Oh, no, Dream had a girlfriend for a while.  Up till pretty recently, actually- they got together pretty soon after Dream and I met, I think.  It- he was… yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he didn’t talk about her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed.  “Oh, oh boy he did.  Constantly, it was a bit concerning honestly.  Especially when they were talking online exclusively- he’d ask me and Sapnap and Callahan for advice on every little thing.”  George looked up, as if reminiscing.  “Yeah, Clay- er, Dream- he’s just like that.  He’s got a big heart, loves to share things about things he cares about.  And…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” you pressed gently, as he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, well, he’s better at that stuff than me, I guess.  This sort of stuff.  Like, understanding his emotions, and talking about them.  I dunno, that’s not really my strong suit… I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he said bashfully.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” you asked genuinely.  “Notice what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing- I guess I’m just not quite as good at sharing my emotions.  It’s hard being genuine all the time, especially when, like, my job hinges on me only sharing what I need too.  I’m not… used to it, I suppose.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused for a moment.  “I’m still not that great at dividing my personal life and, well, my ‘online’ life I guess.  Especially when my best friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> my online life- it's tough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can imagine,” you offered.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose my solution’s always been to just completely separate them, not let them bleed into one another.  But with that comes… challenges.  Sacrifices, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like talking about this kind of stuff with your friends, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, something like that,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sighed, and you caught the same look in his eye that you did when you’d paid for dinner earlier.  Thankfulness, perhaps.  You were glad you could offer him, if nothing else, a bit of understanding.  Empathy.  And perhaps that was all he really needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization brought warmth all the way to your fingertips, which you’d forgotten were still interlocked with George’s.  You swayed along, your conversation moving in the same slow, subtle rhythm.  The wine had loosened your tongue just enough to share things with George you might not have usually, at least not with a bout of overthinking.  You were grateful for that confidence, though knowing it would fade.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more about Dream’s girlfriend- what did he tell you about her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, must you question everything?” you scoffed.  “I’m curious!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, uh, he had… interesting stories, from when they lived together,” George began hesitantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They lived together?  Aw, that's so sweet.  Tell me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to know?!” George was getting impatient.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno!  I just wanna get a perspective on being with a… you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A Minecraft Youtuber?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You laughed.  “Well, not quite the word I was- you know what, that’s better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what were you going to say?” George pried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were suddenly a bit embarrassed.  “A… celebrity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Celebrity?!” George exclaimed softly.  Neither of you had enough energy to be overly dramatic with your body language, but then again you didn’t need to.  You understood each other well enough by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you mumbled.  “Don’t let that get to your head, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I didn’t think you thought so highly of me!” he said sarcastically, and you playfully shoved his shoulder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, screw off!  All that means is that you have a lot of fangirls.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, jealous, are we?” George nudged you back with his shoulder, albeit much gentler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only one I’m jealous of is Dream,” you asserted jokingly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would- oh, you’re in on it too?  The one person I thought I was safe from-”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I know about your whole ‘dreamnotfound’ thing,” you smirked, soaking in his discomfort.  “Oh come on, you act like it's not all over the internet!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George burst into giggles.  “Oh no, how horrible- now you know my secret!”  He sarcastically and overdramatically said.  You must not have laughed enough for his satisfaction, because he felt the need to clarify after calming down from his bout of laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay- but like, you know it's just a joke, right?” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do!”  You said, chuckling.  “But if I find out you’re secretly dating Dream behind my back, don’t expect me to be surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus,” you added after a moment.  “If it wasn’t a joke, you wouldn’t be here with me, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.  I wouldn’t be,” he said, smiling.  He gave your hand a squeeze, right as you finally approached an elegantly lit bridge that stretched over the Thames.  Its reflection glittered in the water below’s surface, and lampposts guarded its entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally!” you exhaled.  “Damn, that took a while.”  You were lying, of course- it felt like all of two seconds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You led George onto the bridge, holding his hand all the while.  You ran your other hand along the smooth brick barrier as you began walking towards the center of the bridge.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going somewhere on the other side?” George asked.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” you smiled.  The clicks of your footsteps were more audible, seemingly echoing throughout the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your heartbeat rang in your ears, growing in volume the closer you got to the center archway of the barrier’s pattern.  Walking to that spot felt like it was taking forever, but as you both looked over the bridge to the darkened water you were distracted by the serene beauty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The London Eye was somewhere far back there, Big Ben with it, but you couldn’t quite see it.  They were obscured by buildings and shops that you’d passed, that lined the expansive river.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And soon, you reached the very middle.  You stopped, George stopping in front of you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking one last look at the view to both your left, you turned to face him.  It took a moment for your eyes to work up the courage to meet his, but when they did, they didn’t leave.  They were dark and barely visible but there was a shine that you could just about make out, and that was all you needed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mirroring as George had before, you reached your empty hand to his, so that you were holding both of his hands in yours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George,” you said softly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” he responded, barely a hum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You leaned forward, and pressed your lips onto his.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Sleepy Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't wanna keep you guys waiting for too long... just a little bit cus I'm evil!!!!  Here's the second half of the kiss- let me just say this was SO HARD to write, so pls forgive me if it's pure cringe. <br/>I love you guys, no joke your comments made me smile so hard.  ANYWAY ENJOY &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hi,” you murmured, voice husky and low.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a single movement, you leaned forward, tightened your grip on his hands and pressed your lips onto George's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for a moment, it was as though time didn’t exist.  It didn’t pass nor pause, your thoughts didn’t move yet they didn’t stop.  All you could feel was your heartbeat roaring in your ears, and the contact of his soft lips on your own.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, he didn’t react.  His movement stilled, as did yours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he did, and he leaned into the kiss so that you could feel a sensation of whole-ness flow through you.  He was still gentle, and tentative.  But he kissed you back with the same amount of enthusiasm as you did, parting your mouth just slightly as he applied more pressure.  You were getting so many butterflies you thought you might fly away, but his hands in yours kept you firmly on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, after a magical moment, you parted.  All you could see were his eyes, and his glowing rosy cheeks.  You knew yours were probably as red, but you were smiling too hard to care.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” George said, beaming, and you’d almost forgotten how stupid you choice of word was when initiating the kiss.  But it worked, and you couldn’t ask for much more than that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were so overwhelmed with joy that you looked down, at the fancy brick flooring and both of your perfectly positioned feet.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’d just kissed GeorgeNotFound.  You’d just kissed George. Not. Found.  And GeorgeNotFound had kissed you back.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You and George didn’t have to walk too long to find a bus stop.  It was rather late but the city was still alive, as always; existing in a low but constant hum.  Similar streetlamp that you’d followed your entire way lit your path, until you diverged onto a smaller street and ducked through a shortcut between a little neighborhood.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Along the way you’d finally admitted defeat, and asked George for his jacket.  He’d given it in exchange for an “I told you so” to which you’d reluctantly obliged.  But you knew that in reality you’d have done anything for his jacket.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that he had 3 layers on under made you feel less guilty about taking it- you’d made sure to tease him relentlessly about it, too.  How many layers did one guy need for a late autumn night?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just get cold easily!  Leave me alone, I never leave the house,” he’d protested, shoving his hands into his pant pockets.  “Don’t steal my wallet, by the way- it’s in there,” he gestured to the jacket you had cozily wrapped around you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I was planning to but since you said that… maybe I’ll reconsider,” you snickered sweetly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was about 9 pm by the time a bus squeaked its way to a stop at the station.  You weren’t holding George’s hand anymore, he’d put his gloves back on and you’d felt satisfied with being bundled in his tan jacket.  You followed him bubbly into the empty vehicle, save for an elderly couple towards the front and a man by a window.  He’d gone straight for the back of the bus, and you followed him as he tucked himself into the window seat of a two-seater.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was fun,” you said, yawning.  He yawned as well, and giggled at the synchrony.  You were squished into that little seat so that you could feel his body heat warm you up, and your shoulders were smushed against each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleepy?” George asked, in a sleepy voice himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” you murmured.  The slow swaying and creaking of the bus lulled you into more of a tired state than you probably would’ve been otherwise.  Plus, you needed an excuse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly and gently, you rested your head to the side, onto George’s shoulder, and let your eyelids fall closed.  After a minute, you felt George lightly lean back onto you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard the subtle clicks of his fingers tapping on his phone screen, focusing on the sound to keep yourself from falling asleep.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you opened your eyes a bit to see his screen as you heard soft music from it- he was scrolling through TikTok.  Of course he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You adjusted your head so that you could actually see his screen, watching and reading as he scrolled through his “for you” page.  There were a couple funny memes, mostly Minecraft.  He jumped, startled, when you let out a chuckle at one; he probably thought you were a sleep.  But then he smiled, caught your hand with his free one and continued scrolling.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You spent the rest of the ride chuckling softly at TikToks you found funny, or just stupid.  Neither of you actually said anything, just amused hums or sharp sighs to express your reactions.  Perhaps he’d squeeze your hand when there was a relatable joke, or you’d snuggle a bit more into his shoulder when there was a cute video of a cat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You didn’t want to leave.  You wanted to stay in this wordless bliss, wrapped in George’s warmth and the sway of a London city bus.  To hold on to the magic of this night as tight as you possibly could, and never let it go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But alas, around the time your phone lockscreen read 9:36 pm, you’d reached your destination.  You were alone on the bus by now, and reluctantly you got up and braced yourself to re-enter the briskly chilly night.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook off the sleepiness as soon as a breeze hit your face, scanning the familiar bus stop you’d been dropped at.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your house that way?” you asked, gesturing to the right.  George shoved his hands in his pockets again and looked down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, the other way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  Your heart sunk a tiny bit, but you shook it off.  “Well, I suppose this is where we part ways, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.  I suppose,” George said, shuffling awkwardly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” you said, immediately taking his jacket off and handing it back to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, right, erm thanks,” he said, leaning forward to collect it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shuffled in place as well.  There was something between you, marred by sleepy eyes and sleepier instincts.  But it was there, and it was waiting to be acknowledged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily for you, George saw it too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, he took a step forward towards you.  Soon you were at the same distance you’d been in when you’d kissed, on the bridge, and before that when you’d almost kissed, on the path.  His soft breath warmed the tip of your nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at you with gleaming eyes, and although they were much harder to perceive in the limited lamp light, you knew by now what they looked like.  It’d been etched into your mind’s eye, ingrained into your heart and painted onto your soul.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And wordlessly, he took a tender hand and reached it forward to cup your face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek with his thumb, a feather tough caressing your blushed skin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, you kissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just for a moment- half a moment, anyway.  You could barely even catch it, as he leaned forward and pressed ever so gently on your lips, then retreated.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you caught his eyes once more, more specifically a trace of suppressed desire behind them.  Oh, if only he knew how much you reciprocated that feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a moment’s hesitation you leaned forward and kissed him again, this time making sure that it lasted.  That it was fulfilling, that it was earnest.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That it was real. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Puppy Dog Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspo song: Dance, Baby! - boy pablo &lt;3 Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You didn’t want to leave.  You wanted to pull him into another hug, grab his hand for like the hundredth time that night, drag him to your place and you could talk and chat all night.  He’d wake up in your arms and you in his, get to see how those dazzling eyes looked in the fresh morning light.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But you didn’t.  You kissed, then hugged.  It was a warm hug, only slightly marred by the chilly night air.  You’d buried your face in his scarf to warm your frozen cheeks, and he’d done the same with your hair.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You remembered swaying back to side slightly, as if dancing in your own language under the streetlamp’s light.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And you remembered when finally George let go of your hands and you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d given you a glowing soft smile, tired eyes trying their best to be energetic.  You’d grinned back, and said goodbye.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then you left.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time you’d reached the flat you called home, you’d reached the depths of your playlist that you'd been playing on shuffle.  It was almost 11.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agh,” you sighed the second you got in the door.  You were so drained, but so invigorated at the same time.  Your body and mind were at war- your tired feet and eyes wanting nothing more than to cozy up in bed and fall asleep, while your mind was dancing in circles.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I kissed George,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you thought, mesmerized, as you slipped off your dress and changed into soft pajama bottoms.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>And he kissed me back- twice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You were still in awe, the gravity of it all only setting in after laying for a moment in the warmth of your bed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George and I… we’re… he…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Your mind searched for words to define your undefinable emotions.  Magical, unbelievable, unreal-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only one thing was for sure: you were hopelessly in love by now.  You were way too deep to even think about getting yourself out, and even if you wanted to, it’d be impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George had you in a daze, a daze that you waltzed with in your never-ending imagination until your body finally gave in and you drifted off to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d always imagined one day, in a magical fantasy world, being awoken lightly by your lover as sunshine rays poured over you generously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, well, even though it was through a discord call, getting woken up at 5:56 am by hearing George’s voice was certainly fantasy material. Too bad you weren’t the most elegant morning person. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hullo?” you croaked groggily as you answered the call.  You were still 65% asleep and despite knowing it was George, as he was the only one you talked to on discord, it didn’t really resonate until he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no!” you said sitting up quickly and reached a glass of water next to you.  You took a big gulp and cleared your throat.  “Sorry, I just- I was about to get up anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nervously ran a hand through your hair despite knowing he couldn’t see it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last night was fun,” he said, and you hummed in agreement.  Flutters ran through you as you recalled the events of last night fondly.  You stretched your arms and rubbed the back of your neck.  You’d had an early dinner, so your stomach was rather empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you thought so,” you murmured as you made your way to the kitchen to fix yourself something.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should do it again sometime,” George said. He sounded a bit distant, you thought- perhaps just as dreamy as you were.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just wake up?” you asked, finding a bowl and picking out a sugary cereal. You deserved it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? No, I’ve been up for a bit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doing what?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Work stuff- editing, thumbnailing.  What’s that sound?” he asked as you poured your cereal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Oh, just making breakfast.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  You poured the milk and stuck a spoon into the bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One sec,” you said as you took the phone off your ear, making your way to your sofa to eat.  “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you watching TV?” he asked just as you clicked it on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So am I,” he said.  “Wait, one second,” he moved the phone so that his voice was muffled, but you could hear him call out, “It’s alright mum, I’ll take her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggled.  “Get who?” you asked, taking a bite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh,” he was flustered that you heard that, “Nothing.  My dog, for a walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!’  You took another bite of your cereal and flipped mindlessly through TV channels.  “What’s her name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lily.  Actually, are you free today?” George asked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm, I think so?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you free now?”  His directness gave you the best kind of butterflies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” you said confidently.  Looked like you’d be rescheduling your morning classes- not that you weren’t planning to anyway.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, you can come walk her with me- if you’d like, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’d like?  Hm, I’ll see,” you teased.  George’s nervous sigh made you giggle, “Of course I’ll come.  Gimme a few minutes to get ready- text me your house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second you hung up to get ready, you practically speedran your morning routine.  Heaven knows it takes you more than 5 minutes to get ready- but somehow you made it out the door in a presentable outfit and minimal wooziness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You marched over to his house, which quite frankly was farther than you thought it’d be.  On the way you passed the coffee shop where you’d first met, sending a wave of nostalgia for only two months ago.  Crazy, how fast time could fly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon you came to the doorstep of a polished brick-fronted flat, with neat flower beds most likely courtesy of George’s mother.  From behind the door you could already hear barking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even before you began climbing up the first step, the door swing open and you were greeted by none other than George himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he said.  By his ankles was a beautiful amber-furred dog, or rather puppy by her size. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello!” you said, directed mostly at the dog as you knelt down and reached a hand out.  She was tentative at first but eventually allowed you to pet her head and caress her floppy ears.  “She’s so small!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed.  “We just got her in August, she’s a little baby,” he cooed, kneeling down as well in the doorframe to rub her back.  You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you found yourself staring at his delicate wrists, unobscured by his rolled up sweater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s adorable,” you murmured lovingly, booping her little nose before finally glancing up at George.  He was already looking at you, making you blush.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, by the way,” you chuckled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah, I’ve been up for hours- but good morning to you, too,” he grinned.  “Oh, wait, I forgot her treats- give me a second.”  George rushed back into the house leaving you to keep dorting over the dog, shutting the door just enough that you couldn’t see the inside of his house.  You were curious, sure, but wanted to save that for another more official occasion.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lily, the dog, kept licking the doorframe and hopping in and out of the house, you even tried to pick her up but she was pretty squirmish.  Plus, you’d only just met her and weren’t particularly amazing with animals or anything.  It was to be expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m back,” you heard say as he came back with a bag of treats.  He’d thrown on a navy jacket and had black sneakers with blindingly white soles.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You got up as George adjusted the puppy’s harness, and attached a leash he’d grabbed from somewhere near the stairs.  “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” you said as they made their way down the front stairs.  “I’m cold, can I have your jacket?”  You gave George your best, most dramatic puppy dog eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes.  “There’s only room for one adorable puppy here,” he laughed, and patted Lily on the head.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a moment later, he took off his jacket and handed it to you with a cheeky grin. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Girlie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!! Happy 300 kudos- I love you all to death.  Thank you, so much &lt;3<br/>The reason why I didn't get this chapter out earlier was because I usually work 2 chapters ahead, and the latest one is a bit longer than the others.  The wait will be worth it though, I promise!<br/>Anyway this is probably old news by the time I publish this but ahhh the George/Wilbur meet upp my heart can't take it.  Trust me, there WILL be Wilbur content in this fic, albeit a bit brief.  And maybe not for a while.  I don't just wanna shove something in that doesn't make sense, but it'll show up eventually!!</p><p>Enjoy this chapter, I do like the last line quite a bit (spoiler hehe) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was, like, actually chilly.  If George hadn't already given you his jacket willingly you might've just stolen it from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vivacious dog didn’t seem to mind at all, though.  By the second the three of you’d spilled out onto the sidewalk, she was bouncing with energy.  Of course, dragging George with her- causing him to almost slip more than once.  It made you giggle uncontrollably and forget your chilliness every time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she always this energetic?” you asked as Lily suddenly jumped up to your knees just as you rounded a corner.   “Hi girlie!” you squeaked as she tried to lick your bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled.  “No, she’s just excited I’m the one taking her out for once,” he said, wrapping the leash around his palm to reel it in.  “Good girl,” he cooed, petting her affectionately.  You found yourself grinning stupidly at how adorably he doted on his pet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he met your gaze, under short wisps of hair a sparkling pair of eyes.  “What?” he asked, smirking.  Your face heated and you looked away quickly, but not before flashing him a quick guilty smile.  “Nothing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This side of the block was more shady, feeling cozy and enclosed between thin trees.  You didn’t know where you were going- probably just a loop, enough to tire the puppy out at least.  It was cloudy, but a nice kind of cloudy.  A comfy kind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” George cut through your thoughts, “Last night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about it?” you said nonchalantly.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <span>not</span>
  <em>
    <span> about it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice,” he shrugged.  You could tell that both of you were equally giddy inside, playing it cool.  At least you were better at it than George. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you said, smiling at the ground as your feet shuffled along.  “It was.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were in a stalemate.  Who was going to break first, you wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should do it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that this morning,” you commented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did? Oh.” There it was again- the distant, dreamy quality in his voice that made you feel like he was miles away from you mentally.  You wanted him to at least take you with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we went on a date. And it was nice. That means we’re dating, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked up at you suddenly, his eyes a mix of surprise, confusion and also perhaps a bit of excitement.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could answer, you continued, “Dating, as in, multiple dates. So, basically… we can do this as many times as we want, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled, and his mouth parted slightly as though he was going to say something. But then it shut, and morphed into a smile.  A joyful, comforting smile that made his eyes crinkle softly.  “Yeah,” he murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes should’ve been focused on his, but they weren’t.  Instead they drifted to his cheeks, soft and faintly tinted pink.  Glowing with a dewy glow that you could only now perceive in person, not through a camera.  And freckles- you didn’t know he had freckles.  They were faint, and few, but they were there, speckling the side of his face and neck that faced you.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” you said, slowly drawing yourself out from your daze, “I planned that one, now it’s your turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said dazedly, as if still fixated on what you’d just said before.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, snap out of it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You gently shoved the side of his head. He was caught off guard and startled Lily with his stumbling.  “Hey alright, alright!” he scoffed at you, grinning slightly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” you pressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George looked down a bit and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.  “You said we’re dating, that’s all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  You suddenly felt something well up in your stomach.  “Is that- I shouldn’t have-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said immediately, looking you in the eyes again and grasping your hand.  “No, I’m just, not used to it.  It’s… been a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you exhaled.  “For me too.”  The puppy was yapping impatiently at your feet since you’d slowed your pacee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we’re dating?” He asked, giving you that side glance again that made you melt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re dating,” you responded, squeezing his hand tighter.  He smiled at you again, this time without his eyes, just his lips curled in a simple yet endlessly heart-warming gesture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You weren’t cold in the slightest after that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Arf! Arf! </span>
  </em>
  <span> Lily angrily barked at a passing bicycle, you both had to struggle to calm her down.  Poor biker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were, in fact, incorrect about thinking George was just taking you in a loop- he did in fact have a spot in mind.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awh, I’ve never been to this park before!” you murmured.  There weren’t any people that you could see, it was a big open field with a handful of benches scattered about.  A winding path wove through, that spilled out onto the sidewalk where you were standing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lily loves to run around here-” he reached in the bag he’d brought, his hand emerging with a bright tennis ball.  “-and play fetch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knelt down to unhook the collar from the puppy’s leash, and as soon as he did she practically leaped on top of him to grab the ball in her mouth, almost making him fall.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah! Here,” he threw the ball and she immediately bolted in its direction.  You giggled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That should keep her busy,” he chuckled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A breeze ruffled your hair as you asked him trivial questions about his puppy- how old was she, had he had a dog before her, what breed was she… it was sad to admit but you didn’t listen to a word he said.  All you heard was the soft inflections of his voice that had become so familiar to your ears in the last months.  They stuck in your mind as they left his lips; his chapped, pink, strawberry lips </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You hummed along to whatever it was he was speaking, simply enjoying being an audience to him talk about something- or, well, someone- that he cared so much about.  Who knew, his puppy would be all it took to melt him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feet scraped against asphalt as Lily returned with the ball and George handed it to you to toss, into the lush green field. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard a buzz coming from George’s pocket.  He slipped out his phone, and you were close enough to see that it was a text from none other than Dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Dream the only one that ever texts you?” you asked teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed.  “Yeah, actually-he’s the only one with my number.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged.  “I dunno, I rarely go out and I’m on discord 24/7, so it’s just, like, easier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, that makes sense.  Still, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> else has your number?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, at least none of my friends do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, but I have your number!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smirked.  “Hm, I said what I said.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi!” you nudged him with your shoulder, gasping over-dramatically.  “So I’m not your friend?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope... ” he said, nudging you back gently.  The playful flirting already found its way to your cheeks, and his push only made you blush deeper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he leaned closer, lowering his voice to nothing but a murmur.  Grinning stupidly and leaning closer to your ear, he muttered, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just wanted to quickly say that I've begun to notice myself using gendered terms like "girl" and she/her pronouns for the reader, simply because I identify with those and sometimes I slip up.  I didn't explicitly tag this fic with female reader on purpose, since I wanted people to be able to enjoy it regardless of their gender expression.  That being said, if I ever use 'girl" or "she" please just ignore it and replace it with your preference &lt;3</p><p>I mostly named the title of this after the dog btw, not after the gender expression of the reader.  To clear up any confusion</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Meant To Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the late-ish update, but hopefully you can enjoy this chapter regardless!! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You had butterflies the rest of the goddamn day after that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to even mention how after the word “girlfriend” left George’s mouth, he leaned even closer and gave you a kiss on the head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If your heart wasn’t already deceased, it sure was now.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it looked like you’d have to get used to that kind of stuff, because… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” you managed, legs shaking so much that it was a miracle you could still stand upright.  “And you’re my boyfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your confident and flirtatious tone certainly did not match what was going on inside, but he didn’t have to know that.  You leaned into him in a side hug as you walked the rest of the path, carried by dreamily delivered comments and dialogue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everytime Lily bounded up to you it brought you each an inch closer together, not physically but rather mentally.  Sharing the sunshine that she brought to your eyes made your moods mutually melt into one another.  It was bliss, and even better, a shared bliss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the length of the path was exhausted George finally pocketed the tennis ball and you began walking back.  The clouds in the sky had begun to swell and darken, and the weather forecast predicted rain in about an hour.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As you approached the last corner before where George’s home would appear, you stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should probably go, now,” you said, taking off his jacket and swiftly handing it to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now?” he asked with wide eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ve still got classes later today.  I’ll call you in a bit, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”  George didn’t hide his disappointment.  “You don’t want to come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You longed to, you really did, but priorities settled themselves on your shoulders.  “I’ll come another day, I promise.  I can see your cat!” you added.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,”  George said hesitantly.  ““Are you sure?  I’d be a bad host if I let you go without offering you tea or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled at his thoughtfulness.  “I thought you didn’t like tea?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled.  “Key word, offering.  My mum would do the making.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The anxiety of meeting his mum suddenly encouraged you to postpone the visit longer- you just didn’t feel ready quite yet.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright,” you assured, quickly leaning forward and giving George a quick peck on the cheek.  “You’re quite thoughtful, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A light pink dusted his cheeks, and with that you gave Lily a goodbye pat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” he said, hand on his cheek where you’d kissed him.  Then suddenly he grasped your hand and pulled you in closer, and the next thing you felt were his lips on yours.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a utopic moment, you parted and allowed your eyes to flutter open.  You smiled at the ground, suddenly too shy to meet his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug as Lily nuzzled your ankles softly.  And the moment he hugged you back, you knew this was where you were meant to be.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, instead of his arms, you were wrapped in a fluffy blanket in the light of your computer screen.  Headphones (that you’d recently purchased after your crappy earbuds broke) fit snugly against your ears and you were sitting when your knees to your chest, socks cozily gripping the chair’s edge.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh yeah, and George was yelling at you through your headset.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use the potion!” he cried into his microphone.  The shy and polite demeanor from the walk in the park, which was about 3 days ago, was now nowhere to be found.  “Literally just use. The. Potion.  You could’ve-”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, shut up!”  you retorted.  “I’m concentrating on building!  I can’t do ten things at once!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All you have to do is-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” you grunted, placing blocks furiously in front of you to block out the rapid flames being flung at you from a swarm of blazes.  “I need to save it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t!  Trust me, use it now- if you don’t use it I’ll spawn more blazes!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No- fine, fine I’ll use it!  Dickhead!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You reluctantly drank your peach colored fire resistance potion, that you’d extremely luckily gotten by killing a witch whilst in the overworld.  Now, surrounded by the murky red of a nether fortress, you wanted to save it until you really really needed it, despite George yelling at you otherwise.  But to be fair, there were way more blazes at the spawner than you’d expected, and without George’s help fighting them you were practically a moment away from death at any point.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s character, on the other hand, was flying around tauntingly in creative mode.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, now you can fight them,” he said, and you scoffed.  He’d been coaching you as you tried to beat the entire game by yourself, hovering around and giving you stuff (which was definitely not cheating).  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you oh supreme minecrafter, for granting me permission to defend myself,” you snickered sarcastically, glaring at his stupid flying minecraft skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You swung your sword casually now that you were practically invincible to the blaze’s fire, killing them with a satisfying ‘bonk’ until you gathered up 8 blaze rods.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay, finally- lets go find some piglins!” George cheered and you groaned.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No break?  No ‘congratulations’?” you pouted.  “Oh come on, I just single handedly took out like fifty blaze!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George scoffed, “First of all, it was more like ten,” he chuckled.  “And second of all, what do you mean congratulations?!  We’ve been at this for two hours and we’re only on the first part of nether!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scowled.  “I deserve a prize, okay!  Hm,” you pretended to be thinking, but in reality you knew exactly what you wanted from him.  “Oh, I know.  Facecam!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George groaned.  “No!  I literally just rolled out of bed-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up I know you’re lying!” you giggled.  You’d memorized his strange schedule by now- he slept at 8am and woke up around 5pm on a good day, although usually more like 6 or 7.  Although, as you’d proudly taken the credit for, he’d begun to wake up earlier and earlier in order to have more of a window to play minecraft after your classes finished around 3. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’d also shifted your schedule a bit, pushing earlier so you could stay up later with him.  You knew that he warped his awakeness around whenever his American friends were awake, but you’d slowly learned that their sleep habits were just as messed up as George’s.  So you’d settled with just defining it as changing day to day, especially when George needed to film or stream and such.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Often it’d pain your heart a bit that the fantasy of having sunny noon dates or late morning strolls wasn’t really a possibility, but you understood.  It was funny though how his schedule seemed to perfectly avoid the sun.  Not that he probably saw it anyway, cooped up inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” George said definitively, laughing.  But you were persistent- you’d get him to turn on his discord webcam if it was the last thing you did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!  I haven’t, like, shaved or brushed or done anything yet!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, George, do you think I care?” you said.  “Fine, I’ll turn mine on too.”  You clicked on your camera, flashing him a huge overdramatic smile to compensate for your tired-looking eyes.  A long day of uni had matted your hair and drained your face, but at least your pajamas were cute ‘n comfy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”  George turned on his camera, wearing a crumpled white T-shirt and greasily slicked hair that stuck up in the back.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god, it's horrible!” you teased sarcastically, dramatically covering your eyes before melting into giggles under his smiling eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me,” he chuckled, massaging the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m joking, you look dashing,” you smirked, “I especially love the bed hair, an excellent touch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You giggled as he immediately went to run a hand through it, swooping it to the left like he always did.  For once his room was actually lit up decently, not with his studio lights or anything just with the overhead ones.  They hit his face differently than the lighting in his videos and streams would.  He felt more like a real person this way, you liked it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay- now we can go beat the ender dragon,” you said, drawing your attention back to the game tab.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, yeah.  Let’s go,” he said, glistening eyes meeting yours as he looked back up at you.  It felt like a million years since you’d first gotten butterflies when he’d looked at you, and although they were calmer now, you still felt them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wondered if you ever wouldn’t. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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